The Monster Within
by Ultimate Queen of Cliffies
Summary: "As if we don't all know that it's Morrible making the decisions, rather than King Oscar." She was quiet for a moment, then added, softly, "As if we don't all know that everyone who so much as lifts a finger against her will be punished in the worst possible way." AU Fiyeraba.
1. Prologue

**No, your eyes are not deceiving you - this is really the first chapter of that multichapter I've been promising you for so long. I'm sorry for the delay. It's been almost a year since my previous multichapter and I honestly don't know what happened. I hope you're still out there, though!**

 **I promised, so... Nia, this one's for you - because it's been so amazing to meet you and spend one short day with you on Broadway, and because you helped me with some things regarding this story - in real life, rather than through social media, which is so awesome!**

 **Humberto, it's also for you, because it's been just as great to meet you on your journey to Europe! :)**

 **This story isn't entirely finished yet, but getting there. Updates will be approximately every two or three days, because we all know I suck at keeping a regular updating schedule. I hope you'll enjoy it!**

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 **Prologue**

She was brought in late one night, when most of the prisoners had already gone to sleep on their cots and the dungeons of Southstairs were mostly silent. Mostly, because it was never completely quiet down there. There were always the moans of someone in pain, the soft weeping that echoed off the walls, or at the very least the grunts and snores of sleeping men.

Fiyero had been listening to the sound of rain falling just outside the small window that was situated high on the wall of his cell, almost against the ceiling. There were only iron bars in front of that window and sometimes icy cold gusts of wind came through it, chilling him; nonetheless, he considered himself lucky for having been placed in a cell along one of the outer dungeon walls, allowing him to have that little window. He liked to listen to the sounds of the people in the streets during the day and to know what the weather was like in the city above him. It made him feel more connected to the outside world.

It had been raining off and on for the past couple of weeks, or maybe they were months – he couldn't be sure. It had to be autumn by now, if not winter, and the weather had turned cold and grey. He had always liked rain, but now it made even him feel disconsolate. Still he listened to it. It wasn't like there was much else to do down here, after all. The prisoners hardly ever spoke to one another; at first, they always tried to strike up conversations, but their attempts usually died down once they realised that talking wasn't going to help their situation. Perhaps it could help them stay sane, but very few of them _wanted_ to stay sane down here. It was easier to bear if you weren't consciously aware of certain things.

The prisoner that was brought in now, however, clearly hadn't figured that out yet. Even at the back of the low, dark dungeons, Fiyero could hear the fight she was putting up.

"I can walk for myself, thank you very much!" she snapped and he heard the sound of shuffling feet on the stones and the clinking of chains. There was the low murmur of the guards' voices and then the female voice again. "Don't you dare lay a finger on me or I swear that you will regret it until your dying day." From most people in her situation, such a threat would have been silly, almost funny, because what was a prisoner in chains going to do to a fully armed guard? Still, somehow from this prisoner's mouth it actually sounded… almost threatening.

Fiyero sat up on his cot, hearing the footsteps come closer. He could see the faint light of the guards' torch now and then he saw the outline of the new prisoner. A girl still, and not a very big one at that. She wasn't exactly small, but smaller than Fiyero had expected her to be after hearing her snap at the guards like that, and gangly. She had long, raven black hair that hung in tangles down her back and over her shoulders. Her eyes seemed black in the scarce light, but he would have seen the fire in them even if he hadn't heard it in her voice before. She was wearing a tattered grey dress and no shoes, despite the cold, and she was in chains and accompanied by two guards. At first Fiyero thought he was imagining things, or the light was playing tricks on his eyes, but now that she was so close he could tell that her skin was actually a vibrant, emerald green colour.

One of the guards opened the door to the cell beside Fiyero's; the other pushed the girl inside and went in after her, fidgeting with her chains. Trying not to seem too interested – interest in anything that wasn't food was usually used against the prisoners here – Fiyero glanced through the bars separating him from the girl. He clearly saw that the guard who was with her slid his hand up her skirt and Fiyero felt a faint twinge of anger, but the girl seemed quite capable of defending herself. She jerked away from the guard and when he tried to grope her again, she spat into his face. "Don't touch me."

He slapped her so hard her head snapped back, but she just glared at him. "Don't you know what I can do?" she asked him in a low voice that was somehow more threatening than the loudest scream. "Do not touch me again."

The guard didn't say anything, but he didn't try to touch her again, either. Instead, he unchained her and left her cell, locking it behind him.

"You won't get away with this," the girl said from her cot. She rose to her feet and walked over to her cell door, looking at the guards. "One day," she said fiercely, "you will all pay for what you've done."

The guards laughed. "And you're going to be the one to make us, I take it?" one of them asked. "Get your head out of the clouds, love. You'll be dead before you're old enough to marry." They laughed again, but the girl just smiled – a smile that didn't reach her eyes, which were furious. The sight of it sent shivers down Fiyero's spine.

"Maybe," she said. "But I'm not the only one who could make you pay. Tell Morrible I said that. Tell her that as long as we're alive, she will never win. Tell her that one day I'll come for her, alive or dead, and it will be my pleasure to make her regret everything she has ever done in her sad, miserable life." She spat those final words, clutching the cell bars so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

The guards didn't seem too impressed. "Keep dreaming, love," one of them said and then they left, taking the light with them.

Fiyero sighed longingly. He missed the light already. There was always so little light down here, despite the small windows. If he could make one wish, it'd be to see the sun again – to really see it, standing outside with his face raised to the beautiful blue sky, basking in the sun's golden beams.

The girl had turned her back on her cell door and was looking around now with a scowl on her face. She glanced to the cell on her left, which was empty; and then to her right. When she saw Fiyero, she tilted her head a little to the side, curious, but she didn't speak. Instead, she sat down on her cot and picked up the blanket to wrap it around herself. She was shivering.

He broke the silence. "Why are you here?" he asked.

She looked over at him again, huddled in her blanket now. "Conspiracy against the Crown," she said mockingly. "As if we don't all know that it's Morrible making the decisions, rather than King Oscar." She was quiet for a moment, then added, softly, "As if we don't all know that everyone who so much as lifts a finger against her will be punished in the worst possible way."

He nodded. He knew.

She studied him more closely. "What about you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "My father had power," he said. "He tried to stand up against her. Against Morrible." He knew he didn't have to continue – everyone knew what had happened to the people who tried to speak out against Morrible – but he did, anyway. "The Gale Force came. They murdered my family and they made me watch. Then they took me away."

The girl was quiet for a while, so long he thought she wasn't going to say anything at all anymore, but then she whispered, "I'm sorry."

He scoffed softly and she sighed. "I know. They're empty words and they don't help. I'm sorry about that, too." She clenched her fists. "One way or another, though, I'll make her pay," she swore. "We won't let her get away with this."

He shrugged again and lay back down on his cot, folding his hands on his stomach and staring up at the ceiling. It was still raining; he could hear it. "That doesn't bring back the people she killed."

"No, but it prevents her from doing the same thing to others." She shivered again. Fiyero could hear the chattering of her teeth even from where he lay. "How long have you been here?"

Another shrug, even though he knew she couldn't see that in the dark. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "They came a few weeks after the Summer Fair."

He could sense her shock. "But… that's over four months ago! Don't they kill everyone who comes here within a few days at most?"

Four months. He hadn't realised it had been that long.

"Sometimes," he answered her question. "It depends on who it is. They like public executions, to scare everyone. I don't think they'll kill _me_ , though. If they'd wanted to, they'd have killed me along with my family. For me, being the only one left, living the rest of my life down here would be worse than dying."

More silence. Then, "You won't."

"I won't what?"

"Live the rest of your life down here," she said firmly.

He had to smile a little at her determination, even though it was a faint, wan smile that wasn't so much happy as it was mildly amused. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

She didn't say anything to that. Fiyero could hear her shift as she lay down onto her cot; he could also still hear the chattering of her teeth. After a few more moments, he couldn't bear it any longer and he got up, pushing his own blanket through the bars at her. "Here."

She turned large, questioning eyes on him and he said with yet another shrug, "You need it more than I do. My clothes are thicker, not to mention the fact that I'm wearing shoes."

She looked down at her bare feet and sighed. "I lost them on my way here. It was a long journey."

"Take it," he urged, still holding out the blanket; and although she hesitated for a moment longer, she eventually took the blanket and wrapped it around herself as well, heaving a contented sigh.

"Thank you." She turned her head to look at him. "I don't even know your name."

"Fiyero," he said and her already large eyes widened further.

"Fiyero Tiggular?" she asked incredulously. "The Vinkun prince?"

Fiyero nodded and the girl cursed vehemently. "They killed the Vinkun _king_?!" She was clearly outraged. "How much longer does she think she can get away with this? The moment she starts killing off royalty, the people will stand up to her, won't they?"

"They won't," Fiyero told her. "They're too scared to do that. Besides, you already knew them to be killing noblemen, didn't you, Elphaba?"

She fell silent once more, turning her head the other way so he wouldn't be able to see her face.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said. "But I know who you are and what happened to you and your family. The skin colour is a bit of a giveaway regarding your identity, you know."

"I know." She shook her head. "But she didn't do those things to my family because they stood up to her," she said, so softly he could barely hear her. "She did that because of me."

He knew she was right. This girl was Elphaba Thropp, the Munchkin governor's eldest daughter who left home a few years ago, at age sixteen, to join the rebellion. Governor Thropp had insisted he had sent her away to stay with family for a while, but the truth had come out when Elphaba and some other rebels had staged an attack on a group of Gale Force soldiers to try and free some of their prisoners. The attack had failed and some of the rebels had been killed. Elphaba, although she'd gotten away, had been recognised by the soldiers as the governor's daughter – after all, there weren't any other green people in Oz – and a few days later, her father and sister had been arrested and put to death in the Emerald City for aiding the rebellion. It had been a public affair, news of which had reached even the Vinkus, a little less than a year before Fiyero's own family had been murdered. He remembered hearing about it from his father.

"At least you stood up to her in some way," he said now. "That's more than most people ever dare to do."

She didn't say anything.

"Besides," he added, "even if you hadn't left to become a rebel, Morrible would have found some excuse to murder your family, sooner or later, and then you'd have been among them. At least now you managed to aid the rebellion for a couple of years and to make a difference."

"I didn't make much of a difference, though," she whispered, crawling deeper into her blanket. "And…" She swallowed audibly. "I couldn't stay away from that square." Her voice grew even softer until it was barely above a whisper. "I don't have to tell you what it's like to watch your father and your little sister die."

The memories were still so vivid, lurking under the surface, and they instantly came to him now. His father, shouting at Jermain to get Fiyero and his sisters to safety right before he was run through with a sword. His mother's screams as one of the men bashed her head against the floor until there were no more sounds from her at all, only a pool of blood and a pair of broken eyes. The soldiers ripping twelve-year-old Aora from Jermain's arms, then holding both Jermain and Fiyero back as they put a rifle between the girl's shoulder blades and shot, again and again and again. Aora couldn't even scream; there had only been a horrible gurgling sound as she slumped to the ground.

Jermain had tried to fight them off so Fiyero and Myah, their other sister, could free themselves and run, but they had never even loosened their grip on the two siblings. Myah had fought as hard as she could; Fiyero had seen the terror in her eyes, but she hadn't shed a tear, hadn't cried, hadn't begged, not even when she'd seen them murdering her parents and her sister. She'd fought them every step of the way. She'd kept her chin up and her back straight and Fiyero wished, more than anything, that he could have had the chance to tell her how proud he was of her. Even when the soldiers had held them both and made them watch as their comrades beheaded Jermain – Fiyero's role model, his hero, the big brother he'd always looked up to – and Fiyero had lost it completely, Myah had kept fighting to get away. It had been of no use, though.

Fiyero had only been able to scream when Jermain died. He'd screamed like a madman until they knocked him unconscious with the butt of a rifle. When he'd woken up, he'd been in a prisoner's wagon, on his way to the Emerald City. He could only thank Oz that he had been knocked out before he saw Myah die, too, even though at the same time he felt guilty because now she'd had to die alone.

They were the things nightmares were made of, and his still were. Every night, ever since it happened, without exception.

"They shot her," Elphaba said, drawing Fiyero's attention back to the present, "and they beheaded him."

He felt a pang at the catch in her voice. "Empty words or not," he murmured, "I am sorry."

She chuckled mirthlessly, but when she said, "Thank you," she sounded sincere nonetheless.

They slept only a little that night, though they didn't talk much more, either. Instead, they mainly sat together in a silence that was somehow comforting, if only because they both knew they weren't alone.

"No matter what happens," Elphaba whispered at some point, "I will never stop fighting them."

He didn't say anything. She said that now; he'd always said that, too. But that was before. When everyone you cared about was dead and you were spending the rest of your days wasting away in a dark, damp dungeon, one tended to lose the will – and the strength – to fight. He of all people could know.

She looked at him. "Is there nothing we can do?" she asked almost desperately. He wished he could reassure her, but he couldn't. Not really.

"There might be," he said, more to make her feel better than because he believed it to be true. "I have no idea what, though."

"I'll find a way," she vowed fiercely. "Somehow, someday, I will bring that witch down, if it's the last thing I ever do."

It was quite likely it would be, Fiyero thought, if she'd succeed at all – not to mention if she'd live to see the end of the week. He didn't say that, either. He admired her spirit and he didn't want to be the one to burst her bubble. "I hope you will, Fae," he muttered. "I really do."

He could hear the surprise in her voice when she queried, "How do you know that name?"

He smiled a little wryly – it had slipped out without him even realising. It was how he had always thought of her because it was the name he'd heard her called by the most. "Almost every rebel knows the name you go by, Elphaba. I don't need to remind you that you're quite famous among them."

She huffed through her nose. "They thought they'd stand a chance with magic on her side," she said, a hint of mockery in her voice, but she mainly just sounded sad. "They didn't realise that magic can't solve everything, even when wielded by someone completely in control – which I have never been in the first place." Her voice turned bitter. "I bet I've been nothing but a huge disappointment to them."

"I'm sure that's not true," he said, but she didn't respond.

Instead, she asked, "So how do _you_ know my rebel name? Are you a rebel?"

He almost laughed at that. Almost. "Not exactly, but my parents… knew things. They had connections. And besides, you're not the only one down here with ties to the rebellion." He'd talked to a lot of the other prisoners, in the beginning, when he still thought a difference could be made by talking. What was the use, though, of talking to people who always disappeared again after less than a week?

Elphaba clearly hadn't figured that out yet, though, and he couldn't deny that it was nice to have an actual conversation with someone again.

"There are others?" She sounded hopeful now. "Down here?"

"Not anymore," he said shortly and even in the dark, he could see her deflate.

They were quiet again. After a while, Fiyero wiggled his hand through the bars separating them, holding it out for her to take, and she laced their fingers together. They spent the rest of the night like that, holding on to another living person as if that was the only connection to the outside world they had left.

When morning came, Elphaba sat up on her thin straw-stuffed mattress and unwrapped the blankets from around herself, pushing them both back into Fiyero's cell through the bars. "Here."

He protested. "You need them yourself. I'm not cold," he lied. The fact that he was freezing was the main reason he'd hardly slept all night; but Elphaba, in her thin, ragged dress and with her bare feet, needed the warmth more than he did.

She smiled another smile that didn't seem very happy. "I won't need them anymore," she said simply.

Fiyero sat up, too, alarmed at the resigned tone of her voice. She didn't seem like the type to be resigned. With the grey light of morning now entering their cells through the small window in his cell, he could make out the darker-coloured swelling of her cheek where the guard had slapped her the day before. "What do you mean?" he asked dumbly.

They both heard the dungeon door open, as if in answer to his question. Footsteps resounded through the dungeons, coming down the path between cells.

"I'm a rebel," Elphaba said simply. "It was too late last night to give me a public execution, which is why they threw me in here in the first place. My time's up now, though." The footsteps came closer and she lowered her voice so the guards wouldn't hear her talk. "Thank you for making my final night more bearable, Fiyero," she said and he heard the sadness she was trying to swallow. "It's good to know that kindness hasn't been completely driven from this world yet."

"Fae…"

They reached her cell. They pulled out a key and opened the door, going inside. She snapped and snarled at them, especially when they tried to touch her again, but they just laughed and put her in chains once more. They roughly yanked her to her feet and dragged her out of her cell. She looked back over her shoulder at Fiyero only once; he met her gaze and held it until she had to turn her head again and the circle of light from the guards' torch disappeared. She was gone, never to be seen again, and Fiyero lay back down on his cot to stare up at the ceiling once more. Outside, it had started raining again.


	2. The Huntress

**Wow. After being absent for so long, and knowing the Wicked fandom has died out a little lately, I wasn't expecting many reviews at all... but you guys proved me wrong. You blew me away! Thank you so much, you're all wonderful!**

 **Fiction is the Truth: I usually update every other day, but like I said, I'll stick with every 2-3 days for now, since I find that real life often gets in the way of a strict update schedule.**

 **KatriaFaeyero: Not as far as you think! (The fact that FF censored part of your review made me laugh.)**

 **Claudaujay: It is! It's still Oz, but indeed a bit of a medieval set-up, though not completely. You'll see.**

 **Askousen44 & Fae'sFlower: Glinda will appear in due time. :) Not for a few chapters yet, though.**

 **Right then, on with the story! The prologue was basically in the past; this chapter picks up in the present.**

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 **The Huntress**

Kiamo Ko was a seemingly abandoned castle in the Vinkun mountains. Tall, old, and imposing, it was said to be haunted by the ghosts of the people who had died there, although no-one knew for certain who had actually died there. The castle had belonged to Countess Aorala Torell of Restwater once, a long time ago. However, after the countess and her husband passed away, their children having departed years before to settle down elsewhere, the castle had been left to crumble without anyone setting foot inside of it again. Not until now, anyway.

The Huntress pushed the hood of her cloak off her head and shook out her braided hair, disliking the way it felt when it was so wet and heavy with rain. Everything was wet and heavy, however; it had been raining steadily for days now. It was not yet that cold, but even so, the dampness of her clothes and hair made her shiver. Her wings were so soaked that their weight dragged her shoulders back.

She looked up at the castle looming in the darkness of the trees, nestled between the hills rather than built on top of one to oversee the land around it, which was probably one of the reasons why no-one ever came there. It looked as haunted as it was whispered to be, she thought, dark and foreboding. All that was missing now was a flash of lightning, silhouetting the dark towers against an illuminated sky, but it didn't come. There was only more rain.

She flexed her fingers and clenched them back into fists a few times, making sparks of magic dance around them. She rolled her shoulders back, took a breath, and slowly exhaled again. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she was prepared for anything. Whatever would come at her once she was inside the castle, she'd be ready.

She pulled her hood back up over her face and, slowly, she started walking up the path. It was muddy and slippery, so she had to be careful not to fall. The weight of her wings only made it more difficult for her to balance herself and she wished she could just fly up to the castle, but she knew she wouldn't be able to launch herself up into the air until her wings were a bit drier and less heavy. Instead, she folded them against her back so they wouldn't get in the way.

Cursing the rain, she ploughed on until she reached the gates, which were also tall and imposing. Not tall enough, though; even without using magic, it took her less than a minute to climb up and over the gates and drop down again on the other side. She continued to the heavy doors that made up the entrance to the actual castle. Then she hesitated.

Should she knock, should she magic them open, or should she try to find another way in? If her informant was right – and she usually was – then the castle wasn't as abandoned as it seemed and she shouldn't alert the person inside to her presence until she was ready to. She had to think this through carefully. Of course she could just fly in through a window, but she'd already noticed that most of the windows had been barred and she had no idea what she'd get herself into. Besides, there was still the problem of her wings being soaked and thus useless at the moment.

She moved away from the doors and started scouring the outer castle walls, inspecting them closely for hidden entrances. She sought out windows and peered through the gaps in the wooden panels that barred them, trying to get an idea of what the inside of the place looked like. She didn't see or hear any sign of other people; there was no movement, no sound whatsoever, and no light, and she was starting to wonder if perhaps her informant had been mistaken after all. Perhaps there was no-one living here. Then again… her informant was almost never mistaken.

At the back of the castle, she found a door that had probably been used by servants when the building had still been inhabited. She tried it. Locked. She chanted a simple spell to open the door and then sneaked through, careful to close it behind her before moving forward and taking in the space she found herself in.

She was standing in a courtyard, with empty stables to one side, an overgrown vegetable garden to the other, and the door to the castle kitchen straight ahead. She first explored the stables and the courtyard itself, searching for anyone possibly hiding there, before moving over to the door. She didn't want to be seen before she was ready to be seen. She unfolded her wings and flapped them, beating most of the water out of them, before opening the door and slipping inside.

Since the door had already been unlocked, she was extra careful as she went inside, expecting to find people there. The kitchen, however, like the courtyard and the castle's surrounding area, was deserted. She moved though room after room on the ground floor and eventually reached the great hall at the front of the castle, from where she could see the large doors she'd stood in front of not much earlier, only from the inside. There were also staircases on both sides of the hall leading up to the first floor. She was just about to start climbing one when she suddenly did hear a sound and she froze. Apparently, the place wasn't abandoned after all.

She started climbing the stairs, slowly, cautiously, and very quietly. She was good at that; she always had been. Her stealth had been her greatest contribution to the rebels when she was a teenager – aside from her magic – and it had been her greatest asset for the past three years as well, so she sneaked up onto the landing and paused, listening intently. The sound seemed to be coming from an open door at the back of the hallway and she silently padded across the thick carpet, staying close to the walls and thus to the shadows as she did so. Eventually, she was close enough to be able to peer into the room.

There he was, a man standing with his back towards her. He was moving his arms, but she couldn't see what he was doing. He was wearing old, worn trousers and a shirt with stains and holes in it; his hair was shaggy, reaching his shoulders; and when he moved his head a little, she could see the stubble covering his chin and cheeks. It was clear he didn't take care of himself very well. He wasn't even wearing shoes.

She tilted her head a little to the side and saw that he was painting something. Was this her target? The monster she had been told about?

Making a decision, she backed away, slinking back down the hallway in the shadows. She'd hide somewhere and wait for him to come out before approaching him. She supposed she'd just have to do the same thing to him she had done to all of her targets. A strange kind of relief filled her at that realisation. She'd feared he was an actual monster and she might be forced to do the very thing she hated doing the most, but this was better. This was good.

Before she even reached the landing above the stairs, however, the door at the end of the hallway burst open and the man – or the monster – flew out, looking much larger and more imposing now than he had only a few minutes before. Before she knew it, he'd crashed against her and was hanging over her, breathing hard as he pinned her to the floor. He must have heard her, somehow; perhaps heightened senses were part of his curse package.

He wasn't as terrifying as she'd thought he would be, but he was definitely intimidating. Almost two metres long and with muscles bulging everywhere, he towered over her and kept her pinned down easily. There was hair covering what she could see of his body – not quite like fur, but it was certainly longer than an average man's bodily hair, and also longer than it had been when she saw him earlier. When he growled at her, she could see the sharp fangs in his mouth and his fingers had curled into claws. He wasn't the man she'd seen painting in that room before. Not anymore. This had to be what his curse did to him.

She struggled against him. "Let me go," she ordered, her heart hammering away in her chest. She wasn't afraid. Not really. Just annoyed – at being pinned to the floor like this, at getting caught in the first place. She was never caught. She _hated_ getting caught.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice scratchy and rumbling.

"None of your business," she grunted, still struggling. She tried to activate her magic, but he was big and hairy and smelly and it was distracting her. It didn't help that she couldn't move, either, and she let out a colourful curse. "Let go of me right this instant!"

He did, much to her surprise. In fact, he seemed to be as surprised by it as she was; but by the time he recovered, she was already back on her feet and glaring at him. Miraculously, her hood hadn't fallen off and she quickly fixed it with her gloved hands. Just in case, she didn't want him to be able to identify her – even though she supposed the wings were kind of a giveaway, even if her skin wasn't.

He took a menacing step closer to her. The young witch spun around and threw herself over the railing and down to the floor of the hall below. The monster roared behind her, but in mid-air, she spread the wings on her back, slowing her descend and allowing her to land safely, after which she made a run for the door. It didn't do to get busted during a job and she wasn't going to stick around to let this _thing_ interrogate her – or worse. She'd come back later.

Before she'd even made it to the door, however, the beast-man was already there, incredibly fast. He blocked her way to the door and when she fiercely tried to fight him, this time using her magic as well, he seemed startled. He howled, an incredibly loud sound that sent the slightest of chills down her spine, and then he reached out and pinned her against the door by the throat to keep her from escaping. She could feel his claws digging into her skin as she tightly pulled in her wings to keep them from getting crushed against the door. He growled and raised his other hand to strike her.

At that, the fight drained from her and all she still felt was exhausted, tired to the bone. It was always the same. She wondered when it would ever end. Would she mind if it did? She was a fighter, but if this man killed her now, she didn't think she'd care very much.

She stopped struggling and hung limply in his grip. "Go ahead, then," she said flatly and with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice, which sounded choked and croaky because of his hand still around her throat. "Kill me. Eat me. Whatever. Just do me a favour and make it quick." Even if her plan wouldn't work and she couldn't escape, there were worse ways to go than to be killed by a monster. Maybe someone would write a story or a song about it. _The Huntress and the Beast_. _The Witch and the Monster_.

Again, however, the man seemed utterly surprised at her response, as had been her intention, and he let go. She fell to the floor, coughing. Despite the fact that she'd hoped she'd startle him into releasing her, she hadn't really expected him to do so. What kind of monster was this? She rubbed her neck and glared up at him. "Why aren't you killing me?" she demanded, her voice hoarse.

He bared his fangs at her. "Who sent you here?"

"That's none of your business, either," she wheezed. She pushed herself back to her feet, but the man would have none of that. He picked her up the way he probably would a sack of potatoes and carried her back up the stairs, completely ignoring her shouts and struggles, before dumping her on the carpet in the hallway on the first floor and blocking her way to the stairs.

And then, before her wide eyes, the monster transformed. The shifts were gradual, but they were enough to make him look entirely different – his jaw less square, the hair all over his body shorter, his muscles less pronounced, his eyes less wild. Slowly, he turned back into the man she'd seen in that bedroom before. An actual man this time, looking unkempt and ragged and as if he had been to hell and back, but still just a man. There was no trace of the beast he had been before.

"How…?" she spluttered, even though she knew how. The general gist of it, anyway.

He gave her a grin that looked more like a grimace. "Tell me who you are and who sent you here," he said, "and I'll tell you how."

She held up a hand. "Never mind. I don't even want to know."

"You were sent to kill me." It wasn't a question, so she didn't answer. He nodded, though; apparently, her silence was all the confirmation he needed. "Tell me by whom."

The young witch raised her chin defiantly. "Madame Morrible."

That name brought forth an instant reaction in him. He shifted into a beast again before her very eyes, growled in a panicky kind of anger that seemed to border on fear, and then shot forward. She leapt out of the way, startled by the sudden change in him, and her movement startled him in turn. He stumbled over his own feet, heading for the railing separating him from the hall below, and he couldn't stop in time. Instead, he crashed into the fragile railing, which broke under the force of impact. He teetered on the edge for just a moment before toppling over with an animalistic yowl of surprise and fear.

She heard the _thump_ that meant he'd hit the floor. She carefully scooted closer to the edge, peering over. He was lying on the floor in the hall, not moving, and she slowly descended the stairs and went over to him. He was still breathing, but he had to be in some serious pain. When she hovered over him, he briefly opened his eyes a little and stared at her for a clock-tick or two before his eyes fell shut again.

She hesitated, wondering how morally wrong it would be of her to leave him here like this. He'd transformed back into a man now, though, and no matter how hard she looked, she didn't see the monster. She just saw a man who had been unlucky enough to invoke Morrible's wrath – but who wasn't, these days?

"Oh, _bother_ ," she grunted, her shoulders slumping when she realised there was no way she'd be able to leave him here like this with a clear conscience. Not that her conscience was still very clear, but this… He was hurt. It wasn't in her nature to let a hurt creature suffer if she could help it – even one that was under some weird kind of spell and that had attacked her and threatened to kill her not long before.

She heaved a deep sigh and made a gesture, watching as the man slowly rose until he was floating about a metre above the ground. She motioned with her finger and followed as her magic lifted him back up the stairs, down the hallway, and into the bedroom she'd first found him in. Carefully, but not exactly gently, she lowered him onto the bed and set to work, determining how badly he was injured and how she could help him.

It wasn't what she'd come here to do. Not at all. Then again, in her life, things never went as they were supposed to go and so she sucked it up, closed her eyes, and called upon her magic to begin healing him.

Healing was a complicated bit of sorcery that required several different spells and a lot of time. First, she had to chant a spell that told her the scope and state of his injuries. It was nothing too terrible – a couple of broken bones, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion – but each injury required a different spell to heal it. Fortunately, she knew all these spells by heart, having used them quite often ever since she joined the rebels seven years ago, and so she sang them almost without thinking. The broken bones were most difficult; she had to set the bone with one spell and encourage it to heal with another, which was a particularly long and painful process. She knew she'd be sitting here for a few hours at least and so she made herself comfortable in an armchair as she chanted, letting her hands hover over this strange man's body.

He appeared to wake a few times, but he always sank back into unconsciousness again fairly quickly, aided by another of her spells. He shouldn't be conscious to feel his body heal.

He did dream, she thought, for he muttered or cried out fairly often. She wanted to remain indifferent, but she couldn't. It was horrible to hear a grown man crying for his father. To hear him shout out loved ones' names in a voice that broke. To know that the loved ones he was calling for had most likely been killed in some terrible way, given his strong reaction to her mentioning Morrible's name. If Morrible had been involved in what happened to him in some way, it was almost a given that whatever it was that happened must have been terrible.

He was whimpering now and Elphaba paused her chanting for a moment to catch her breath. The magic was taking its toll on her, but she knew she couldn't stop until she'd done everything she could. She gave herself a few minutes, fetching some water from the empty kitchen downstairs and gulping it down. She glanced at the sleeping – or unconscious – form on the bed. She'd very much like to sleep herself. That had to come later, though.

Something on the nightstand on the other side of the bed caught her gaze and she walked around the bed to study it closer. With a jolt, she realised it was a photograph. This supposed monster had a photograph on the nightstand beside his bed. Curious, she picked it up. It depicted a family with four children between ten and twenty years old, if she had to guess. The parents had their arms around one another and were smiling. The eldest-looking son had his arms around one of the girls, who was much smaller than he was; the girl was smiling while the boy looked like he was saying something to her. The other girl was on the remaining brother's back, her arms tight around his neck. They both appeared to be laughing about something, as if they were sharing some inside joke.

It was that second son that caught Elphaba's attention. She knew him, and not just because an older, wearier version of him was currently passed out on the bed behind her. She studied the boy in the picture. Sandy hair that fell into his face. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, slightly crooked nose. Sparkling, azure blue eyes, mischievous yet kind.

 _Kind_.

And then she knew where she had seen him before.


	3. The Monster

**I love how you're all a bit confused, but still intrigued, because that's what I was trying to do. I've been told I often describe too much back story too soon, so this was a bit of an exercise in plot and tension building. I'm glad it's working out!**

 **Claudaujay: I haven't based Fiyero's family on the book, but in the musical it's indeed never specified if he has siblings or even if he's the crown prince or not, so I usually use OCs to make up his family the way it fits best in the story I'm writing at that time. :)**

 **This chapter should clear some more things up, but more bits and pieces of back story will be revealed throughout the story as a whole.**

* * *

 **The Monster**

Pain. Light.

Blackness, but with something glistening in its depth. Eyes. Those eyes. Dark, sparkling eyes, filled with fire and fierceness and a deep sadness that he knew mirrored his own.

He had seen those eyes before.

He didn't know where or when. He didn't remember to whom they belonged, but he knew he had seen them before, in another life, years ago. Before any of this happened. Before he came here and before he'd been turned into the monster everyone feared.

Darkness.

More pain. He didn't try to open his eyes this time, knowing how much it would hurt; instead, he lay still. Something warm was moving over him and he heard humming, as if someone was singing a song, but then a song he had never heard before. It had a strange rhythm with unfamiliar notes. It was almost like chanting. It sounded beautiful, though, in an odd way, and he allowed it to lull him back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, he managed to open his eyes just the tiniest bit. He realised that the room he was in was almost completely dark, save for a single candle burning on the nightstand beside him. He blinked slowly. He became aware of a cool hand on his forehead and a whispering voice.

"Fiyero?"

That was what had woken him, he realised. It wasn't the faint light or the pain. It wasn't even the voice that did it. It was the word. That one word he had not heard in a long time. How long had it been since someone had called him by his name?

"Fiyero," the voice whispered again. The hand disappeared from his forehead. He opened his eyes fully now, blinking again before focusing on the face of the woman – no, he thought, the _girl_ , still – hovering over him. A heart-shaped face with sharp facial features, thin eyebrows, and those large, dark eyes he recognised. The eyes he had seen before.

He had to blink his eyes a few more times before he realised that it wasn't just the scarce light and his pounding headache that were making her skin appear green. Once that realisation did come to him, however, he sucked in his breath sharply. He recognised her. _That_ was where he had seen those eyes before. He'd thought her to be dead, but now that he got the chance to study her, he knew it was her.

"Fae?" he croaked, remembering her rebellion nickname from all those years ago; and he watched as a sad smile spread across her face.

"Hello there," she murmured, wringing out a wet cloth and placing it on his forehead. "So it _is_ you." Her smile faded quickly, however. "I was evidently right, wasn't I, when I said you wouldn't be spending the rest of your life in Southstairs? I didn't expect this, though." She frowned a little. "What did she do to you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off before he could. "Never mind, I'm sorry. You need to rest first. We can exchange stories later." She hesitated, glancing out of the window. It was dark outside.

"What time is it?" he asked in a hoarse voice and she pursed her lips.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "Ten or eleven in the evening, maybe. I should be getting out of here soon."

He wanted to ask her why, but he was already sinking back into oblivion and he had a feeling she wasn't going to tell him, anyway. Still, it was immensely reassuring to have someone there who knew his name, who knew _something_ about him, however little that may be. Everyone who'd known him had disappeared; he hadn't seen a familiar, friendly face in four years. He hadn't talked to anyone for so long.

Maybe she was just a dream, a vision come from the depths of his exhausted brain. Right now, though, he didn't even really care that much. She told him to sleep and he did, closing his eyes and listening to her starting to hum softly again, once more that strange tune that seemed to float around him and carried him away to the realm of dreams.

Again, he dreamt of his family and when he awoke this time, his headache was gone, as was the pain in the rest of his body. Elphaba wasn't sitting in the chair she'd occupied before and for a moment, he thought she really had only been a dream; but then he saw her curled up in the armchair by the window instead, covered by her cloak, asleep. He smiled a little and fell asleep himself once more, too. When he opened his eyes again, it was morning. Grey light came in through the windows and he could see that it was raining.

Just like that night in Southstairs.

He looked at Elphaba, who was still in the same spot. She'd been taken away that day and she'd been convinced that she would be put to death, yet here she was. What had happened to her between then and now? He could tell she was much less of a girl than she had been back then, but the change wasn't so much in her body. It was mainly in her face – and in those eyes.

They opened now, as if she'd heard that final thought, and she yawned and stretched. Suddenly, in amazement, he realised that she wasn't covered by a cloak at all. Those were dark grey wings wrapped around her body to keep her warm. How had that happened? Was he hallucinating?

She glanced over at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," he rasped.

She came over to the bed to check him over before nodding in satisfaction. "You seem to be doing better. Are you still in pain?"

He shook his head, still dazed by his earlier observation. Now that she was standing, he didn't see the wings until she turned to the side a little. They were indeed dark grey and folded tightly against her back, almost appearing to merge with her body.

She looked at him expectantly and he realised he hadn't answered her yet. "I feel a little weak, but otherwise I'm okay," he said. "What did you do?"

She smiled ever so slightly. "I used magic to heal you. You'll be feeling tired and somewhat weak for another while, that is only to be expected after the spells I've cast on you, but you should be completely fine in a couple of hours."

She could do that? Yes, he'd known she was a witch and that she could do magic, but it had been quite the impact when he'd hit the ground. She'd really healed all that? It only increased his confusion. What else didn't he know about her? And if her magic was that strong, and she'd been sent to kill him, then why hadn't she done that? It would have been much easier for her to have done what she came here to do and just kill him than sit by his bedside all night long, healing him.

He watched her closely. "What are you doing here, Elphaba?"

She heaved a sigh so heavy it sounded like the weight of the world was on her winged shoulders. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had come undone from the braid she'd been keeping it in, and he watched in mild fascination as she gathered the thick strands in her hands and expertly twisted them into a bun on the back of her head, keeping the hair out of her face. He didn't really expect her to reply and she probably knew that, because she didn't answer his question. Instead, she studied him and asked, "Can you get up?"

He tried, slowly sitting up and then swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He was a little wobbly, but he could stand and walk and Elphaba exhaled slowly.

"Good," she said. "Do you think you could keep some food down?"

"I'm not hungry," he said, still watching her. It was clearly making her uncomfortable, but he didn't avert his gaze and she refused to back down, too.

He decided to begin with an easier question. "How did you survive? I thought they were going to execute you."

"So did I," she said curtly. "But they didn't."

He waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, he pressed, "Why not?"

She sighed irritably, recognising he wasn't going to give up so easily. "Because they knew about my magic," she said. "I told you before that I used it to help the rebels – as much as I could, anyway, because I had a hard time controlling it back then. It wasn't until later that I got my hands on some books about the topic and learnt to direct it and bend it to my will. In any case, Morrible knew I had the power and thought it would be useful to have me around to do magic for her."

"And you just do that?" he demanded hotly. "Because she asks you to? Why would you do that?"

She shook her head. "I have to go," she said instead of answering his question.

He stared at her. "Go?" he echoed. "Go where?"

She shrugged apologetically. "Go back."

"Back." His face darkened. "To Morrible." He could feel his muscles ripple beneath his skin and he knew he was on the verge of transforming again.

"Yes, to Morrible." She had probably seen it, too, and knew what it meant, because she didn't meet his gaze. "It's not what you think."

"She killed your family," he emphasised and she winced visibly at that, but he didn't feel sorry for her. Not this time. "You told me so yourself. She shot your sister and she beheaded your father, and now you _work_ for her? Voluntarily?!"

"It's not like that, Fiyero!"

"What's it like, then?" he demanded. "You said you'd never stop fighting her, remember?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "I remember." She opened her eyes again. "And I haven't," she said firmly. "But sometimes it's just not that easy."

"It's never easy, but I didn't think the Elphaba I met that night would just cast aside her principles and start working with her greatest enemy!"

She was shaking her head again. "You don't understand," she insisted.

"Then explain," he said, staring at her intently. "Please." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he crossed his arms, tapping his foot as he waited for an answer. When none came, he pointed a trembling hand at the door. "You make me sick. Get out."

Her face fell. "Fiyero –"

"Don't even say my name." His transformation was pushing through, his teeth elongating into fangs, hair growing all over his body and his muscles rippling more violently as they started to bulge. "Get out before I rip you to pieces." He didn't mean that. He'd never ripped anyone to pieces before – not consciously and of his own volition, anyway. Sometimes, when he _really_ lost control, he lost himself in the beast and he didn't know what he was doing anymore. It was a built-in part of his curse and it was terrible; but he'd never purposefully hurt someone. It hardly ever happened anymore, but he wasn't entirely certain that it wouldn't happen now if she stayed here for much longer with that look in her eyes that told him she didn't think he understood one bit of it. It made him furious.

Elphaba's eyes hardened and she straightened. "Fine," she snapped. Without another word, she strode out of the room, leaving him behind. He was alone once again.

He paced. He growled, annoyed with himself. He'd chased her away now. She was the first person in years to know him, the person he had been before he had become this monster. She was the first person in years to talk to him like a human being and he had chased her away.

Then again, if she was involved with Morrible, why would he even want to keep her around? He just couldn't believe her. She'd told him herself that Morrible had killed her family and now she was working for the old hag? Why in Oz would she do that? Maybe she was right. He didn't understand.

And what would happen to him now? Would she be back for a second attempt? Or would she tell Morrible she failed and would the woman send someone – or something – else after him? In any case, he didn't think he had much longer to live.

That was fine, though.

Earlier, when he had caught the green-skinned girl and she'd told him to kill her, he'd been surprised. He had seen the fight leave her eyes just as quickly as it had come and it had taken him aback – and not just because she hadn't seemed like the type to give up. It had surprised him because it reminded him of himself.

He didn't want to die. Not really. On the other hand, though, he also didn't really want to live. Not like this, anyway. He would never purposefully do something to end, or endanger, his life; but if Elphaba would come back to kill him, or Morrible would send someone else… Well, he wouldn't really be sorry. He'd see his family again, at least. Whatever came after this life, it was bound to be better than this endless hiding and hunting, always alone, always afraid of losing control and killing people.

He wished she'd stayed.

She was Morrible's pawn, yes, but at least she was someone he could talk to. Someone who didn't run away screaming the moment he appeared – someone who even talked back to him, despite his monstrous form and the curse that could make him kill her. He had missed that. He didn't think any normal person could understand what it was like to be so completely alone for so long, to be unable to talk to anyone or have any kind of normalcy in his life.

He was an animal now, in almost every sense of the word. Whenever he got excited or upset, or experienced another emotion that was relatively strong, he'd physically change into a beast. He used to turn whenever Morrible said the word, too, because she put this curse on him in the first place and she could control it. She'd made him execute people, just like his own family had been executed, only publicly. She'd forced him to do it through magic and he didn't even consciously remember doing it afterwards. Usually, the only sign that he had killed was the metallic taste of blood that lingered in his mouth for a long time – that, and the terrible nightmares he got for at least a week afterwards. When she was done with him for the time being, Morrible always sent him back to his cell in Southstairs until she needed him again. She'd treated him like that for well over a year before he'd finally managed to escape.

He didn't think she'd known where to find him or she would have had him captured again, or killed, sooner. He hadn't gone home; instead he'd chosen to go to his great-great-grandmother's castle, which had been empty ever since her death, and hide there. He hunted animals in the surrounding woods sometimes, but he tried to keep himself under control so he wouldn't hurt any people. He thought he'd managed that so far, but he couldn't be entirely sure. He didn't always remember everything he did during his worst transformations.

When he was human, he sometimes wrapped himself in a dark cloak and set out for the nearby village to purchase food with some of his family's gold, which he had found in the castle. He never dared to speak to anyone, however, or to stay for very long. It was too dangerous. He spent most of his time painting – things from his past, usually, or things from his dreams. Painting had always been his way to cope with everything life threw at him and it had saved his life, or at least his sanity, during the past couple of years since he managed to escape Madame Morrible. Other than that, he didn't do much. He ate. He slept. He read, sometimes, but not very often. He hardly took care of himself because there was no-one to see him, anyway. He felt disgusting for murdering people, so he didn't bother washing, cleaning his teeth, or combing or cutting his hair, because he knew he'd always feel filthy regardless and no-one else was there to mind the way he looked. He was surviving, not living, but surviving was still better than being dead, he supposed.

He wondered, though. Because if Elphaba had come to kill him, as Morrible's helper, then why hadn't she? He'd fallen off the landing and crashed to the floor, all but unconscious. She could have easily finished him off then. She could have just left him there or used her magic to obliterate him in the blink of an eye. She hadn't. Instead, she'd patched him up using that very same magic and she'd stayed with him all night long to keep an eye on him. She'd talked to him in a friendly way, even. She'd admitted Morrible had sent her to kill him, so why in Oz was he still alive?

There were a lot of questions and not nearly as many answers, but the thing that bothered him the most was the fact that despite everything, despite knowing what she'd come here to do and knowing whom she worked for, he still wanted her to come back. He was that pathetic. He'd rather have a murderess with no moral compass to talk to than no-one at all; and that, he thought bitterly,was the _real_ reason why he was a monster.


	4. Pretending

**This one is mostly to explain this alternate universe a bit more, show you where everyone is at the moment, and set things up for the rest of the story, so bear with me. It does have Glinda, though!**

 **Claudaujay: I know! She turned out really evil in this one. With other villains, I like them to have a bit of depth, but Morrible... she's just evil. Period. Haha. And I needed her to be very blatantly evil in this story.**

 **One of you has made some suggestions and predictions that are so accurate it's almost scary, but I won't say anything - you'll see what'll happen.**

* * *

 **Pretending**

"Ah, hello, dearie," Morrible greeted Elphaba the moment the young witch set foot in the throne room of the Emerald City Palace. "You've carried out my assignment, then?" The woman sounded pleasant enough, but there was a hint of steel in her voice. "You're late."

"I do apologise, Madame," said Elphaba, gritting her teeth. She kept her back completely straight and held her head high. "It took me a little longer than expected to do it, that's all."

Morrible raised an eyebrow at her.

"I was discovered," she admitted, spinning her lie on the spot. "I managed to escape, but I realised I would not be able to take out the beast in a fair fight, not even with magic, so I decided to wait for it to go to sleep. Then I killed it and came straight here. I did carry out your assignment, Madame. I always do, don't I?"

Morrible grinned at her. "That you do, dearie." She studied Elphaba more closely. For a moment, the younger girl was afraid Morrible could see right through her, that she somehow knew what happened; but then she said, "I have another assignment for you, but I'll allow you to get some rest first. You're no good to me when you're not at your best. I expect you back here by tomorrow. Be prepared." Then she waved Elphaba off.

The dark-haired witch quickly left the throne room and let out a long breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding. For what must be the thousandth time, she mentally thanked Oz that Morrible wasn't capable of reading people's minds. If she had been, Elphaba would have been dead long ago. There was not a doubt in her mind that if Morrible figured out what Elphaba had really been doing all this time, there would be hell to pay. Hell that would probably be even worse than it had been to watch her father and little sister die.

It would be worth it, though. If she could only save one innocent person's life this way, if she could only spare one child the pain of going through the things _she_ had gone through, it was worth it. And it wasn't just one person she'd saved, she knew. She'd been deceiving Morrible for years already, almost the full period of time she'd been working for the old hag. Somehow, she had managed to save dozens of people by now – perhaps even hundreds – and she would do it all over again in a heartbeat if she had to.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear her name being called until someone touched her shoulder. "Elphaba!"

She jumped, twisting around, and then relaxed. "Sorry. I didn't hear you."

Glinda looked worried. "What did Morrible want? Did she give you another assignment?"

"Not yet," said Elphaba and the blonde looked relieved.

"Elphie… How much longer do you think you can keep this up?" she asked, lowering her voice as she linked her arm with the green girl's and led her down the hallway. "Sooner or later, she's going to find out."

"I'm just hoping for later, rather than sooner," her friend said drily and Glinda pursed her lips in disapproval.

"That's not funny."

"I know. But it's true."

Glinda sighed. "You're still being careful, though, aren't you?"

"Always," Elphaba assured her.

Glinda looked like she wanted to say something else, but someone called her name and she appeared to change her mind. She patted Elphaba's arm. "Come by my rooms when you have some time off," she told her. "Maybe we can figure out a way for me to help you."

Elphaba frowned. "I don't want your help, Glin, I told you. I won't put you in danger –"

"Don't you think I'm already in danger?" the blonde hissed through the smile that was still plastered on her face. "Sweet Oz, Elphie, we're all in danger, you know that. I might as well endanger myself helping you. I've read some things in the books Popsicle brought with him last time he visited and I need your opinion on them."

Glinda's father had been sending his daughter letters and presents ever since she had first come to the Emerald City, but in many of them, he had hidden something he thought could help her – a copy of a spell or some information he'd found somewhere, usually. He knew, as well as most of the people of Oz did, that Morrible had them all caught in her web. He also knew from his daughter that she had befriended a powerful witch and he was more than willing to help her, too, for which Elphaba was eternally grateful, given the fact that they both knew what he was risking by doing so.

"We may just… you know," Glinda continued, lowering her voice further. "Find a way."

To kill Morrible, Elphaba knew, or at the very least incapacitate her. "Glin…"

"Trust me," the blonde sang, letting go and giving her friend a small wave as she headed in the direction of the servant who had called her. Elphaba sighed and turned back, continuing to the stairs.

She left the palace and headed for her own tiny apartment just a few streets off, using the shadows as her cover, her hood up once more and her wings tucked under her cloak. She didn't want other people to see her, if she could help it. Even here in the Emerald City, people generally didn't respond too well to her skin. Not just because it was strange or unnatural – not anymore – but because it identified her as Morrible's Huntress, the witch who had single-handedly been murdering rebels left and right for the past three years. Little did they know that she had warned all those rebels instead and that they had merely slipped away in the dark of the night, leaving Oz never to return.

At first, she'd worried about producing a body. How to convince Morrible that her intended targets were dead? She'd searched through spell books and eventually found a way to create an illusion – something she hated doing, but it was necessary. She wished she could spare her targets' neighbours, friends, or family members the horror of going into the house and finding what they thought was the dead body of someone they loved, but it was still better than actually killing that person.

The illusions were usually enough to convince everyone that the rebel in question had been murdered and the rumours about the death almost always convinced Morrible that Elphaba had done her job. A couple of times, however, the old hag had actually asked Elphaba to bring back the head of her victim, in order to make sure the green girl wasn't deceiving her. Those times, Elphaba had had to scour a pile of disposed bodies near an execution spot in order to find a head that looked at least a little bit like her target. It was something that made her stomach turn, but that, too, was necessary. She didn't just hate it because it meant she had to search a pile of decomposing bodies, either; she hated it because there _was_ a pile of decomposing bodies to search, all rebels or criminals who had been executed without a trial and then dumped on some remote field without a proper burial. Like her sister. Like her father.

Elphaba reached the door to her apartment and squeezed inside. She took off her cloak and sank down onto the worn couch, thinking.

Yes, Fiyero had sent her away, but she could never kill him for that, so she'd had to lie to Morrible. If the older witch discovered that he was still alive, however… She shuddered to think of the consequences of that, both for him and for her. She'd have to go back to warn him that he had to leave. She didn't really get a chance to do that before.

She didn't blame him for making her leave. Of course, she could explain; but he hadn't known that. He was right to think her a terrible person for working with Morrible. She _was_ a terrible person, there was not a doubt in her mind about that. Nevertheless, she'd have to go back to him and tell him to pack his things and leave or they'd both be killed. She wondered if he'd even care. She also wondered if he'd allow her to get three words in before he'd carry out his threat and rip her to pieces upon seeing her again.

Still, she had to go, so she decided to fly over to Kiamo Ko again after her assignment tomorrow. She'd have to return to Morrible first, of course, but she'd travel to the castle afterwards. Morrible usually didn't need her again so soon after an assignment.

She made herself some food, ate, and then went to sleep for a while. Upon waking up again late that afternoon, she spent the rest of the day reading.

She used to love to read just for the pleasure of learning things and escaping reality with someone else's story. These days, however, she mainly read books about magic, trying to find a way to break Morrible's hold on not just her, but the king and the entire country as well. The problem with that was that Morrible had outlawed every magical book that she thought contained too much power, so the books Elphaba could get her hands on weren't of the calibre she needed to actually achieve something. Still, she had to try. She hoped that perhaps in combination with the information Geoffren Upland kept sending them, it would be enough.

It was discouraging, though, to read so much and discover so little – nothing that could help, at least. She had by now learnt a lot of techniques from these books that helped her control her magic and she was grateful for that, but she needed more. She needed a way to escape Morrible's grasp and to help the rest of Oz escape it as well, but where could one find such a spell?

Her stomach growled and she glanced at the window, only to discover it was already dark outside. She debated making herself some dinner, but decided against it. She'd go visit Glinda instead. They needed to talk, anyway.

She flew to the palace, since that was quicker than walking, and knocked on the door to her friend's rooms. It opened almost immediately.

"Elphie!" Glinda pulled her inside and gave her a hug. "I hadn't expected you so soon!"

"I was feeling a little lonesome," Elphaba admitted. She sank down at the table in the blonde's private sitting room and held her head in her hands. "I just… I've been going over those spell books again and again, but there's nothing there, Glin. I just can't find anything that could help us."

"Yes, well, we can't give up," said Glinda, taking a seat opposite her friend. "We have to keep looking."

The green girl nodded. "I know."

They were quiet for a while. Then Glinda asked, "Have you had dinner yet? I was just about to order mine."

Elphaba shook her head and the blonde instantly got up, called a servant, and ordered several dishes to be brought up to her room. She and Elphaba ate and talked about other things for a while. It was nice to get their minds off the problem that had weighed so heavily on them for so long already.

Glinda took a sip of her wine. "Do you remember way back in the beginning, when I had just come to the palace and I was terrified of you?"

Elphaba grinned. "Yes. It was hilarious. There you were, this little stuck-up princess, ordering everyone around like you owned the place; and the moment you laid eyes on me, you just shrank and became a meek little lamb. It was almost cute."

The smaller girl stuck out her tongue. "You were scary, though, striding through these hallways wearing all black, with that hat pulled over your face, glaring at everyone you came across. Not to mention your reputation… and your wings. I didn't know then what I know now. Although I still don't quite understand why Madame Morrible sent for me in the first place," Glinda mused.

"Isn't that obvious?" asked Elphaba. "Your father was one of the only noblemen who had not resisted her in some way and he had a blonde, pretty daughter whom everyone adored. You were an example. She got to use you for propaganda purposes and in exchange, she promised no harm would come to your family."

That was how the blonde had become Glinda the Good, an example of light and goodness for all Ozians. The people feared Morrible, but they adored Glinda; and her appearance also helped keep the noblemen in check for a while, because they became hesitant to speak out against Morrible when the famous Geoffren Upland's daughter was one of the people speaking for her.

What they didn't know was that Geoffren himself had an alliance with the rebels and Glinda was at the centre of it. Even as she confirmed Morrible's decrees and gushed about the older woman's having Oz's best interests at heart, she was trying to find a way to stop her once and for all. The only problem was that even now, after three years and with the help of a former-rebel-turned-powerful-witch, she hadn't managed to succeed in doing so.

Glinda fidgeted, looking uncertain. "Elphie… I know I said we have to keep trying, and we do, but is there anything we _can_ do? Do you think there even exists a spell we can use to defeat Morrible?"

"There has to be," said Elphaba, even though she wasn't sure of that herself. At all. "Maybe not one to defeat her, but one to _help_ us defeat her, at least. I think our problem is that the spell books we have access to aren't advanced enough. Even your father's help isn't enough. We need more."

"How? Morrible has banned all powerful magic books from the kingdom except for her own," Glinda protested.

Elphaba's eyes glimmered darkly. "Then maybe we need to get hold of some of those."

Glinda stared at her. "You want to steal Morrible's spell books?" she asked slowly. "Elphaba, that's suicide."

"Not necessarily," said Elphaba. She picked up her glass of wine and swirled the liquid around inside, watching it thoughtfully. "She keeps some of them close, but she also has a lot of them just locked away somewhere. She doesn't look at them for weeks sometimes. We just need to find out where she keeps them, get them, and keep her from suspecting us."

"That sounds easy," said Glinda sarcastically, which made her friend chuckle.

"Not really," she admitted. "But we could do it."

"Where could we hide them?" Glinda wanted to know. "She'll have your apartment searched, probably, and my quarters as well. Neither of us can take them."

Elphaba nodded. "I know." She stopped swirling her wine around and took a sip of it instead. "Let me think about this. I'll get back to you. I do believe we could pull this off, but we'll need a plan."

"It better be an Oz-damned fantastic plan," Glinda warned her and Elphaba smirked.

"Trust me," she said, setting down her wine glass and leaning forward. An idea was already taking shape in her mind, even though it was vague and perhaps even impossible to carry out. Still, she wasn't going to give up so easily. "It will be."


	5. Persuasion

**Again, thanks so much for all your reviews! You guys are amazing. :)**

 **Certain things in this chapter move rather fast and I want to explain that a bit, because it's an idea I've had for a while; but since it contains spoilers for the chapter, I'll do that in an AN at the end.**

 **IllusiveDream: ...Yeah, I might have been reading that when I first started writing this fic, haha. Somehow, influences from the books I read as I'm working on a story always sneak in, even when I try to keep them to a minimum. #oops**

* * *

 **Persuasion**

Upon returning to her apartment, Elphaba slept through the night, awakening late in the morning, after which she got up and dressed before making her way back down to the palace again to receive her next assignment from Morrible: A Zebra family with young children. It made Elphaba feel sick, but she curtseyed, as she always did, and left the palace. She spread her wings and set out for Quadling Country, where the family lived.

It was always like this. She found the Animal family's house and landed just outside of it when dusk started to set in. There was always the same nervousness because she was afraid Morrible would find out what she was doing this time. Always the same triumph when she helped someone escape, a triumph that drowned out the nervousness because it was so much stronger. If Morrible caught her, at least Elphaba would be the only one to suffer.

She knocked on the door. When a young Zebra opened it, she instantly pushed her way inside and told the Zebra to close the door behind her and to call his parents. She explained to them who she was and what she was doing there; that she'd been sent to kill them, but that she wouldn't, and that she was going to help them escape instead. They nodded, visibly shaken yet forcing themselves to stay calm, and Elphaba told them to go into the forest. After ushering them out the back door, she pointed them a hidden way to the border and warned them to stay out of sight. They thanked her profusely and left.

She returned to the house to cast her illusion spells, creating fake dead bodies inside the house. Then she flew back to the Emerald City to confirm that she'd carried out her assignment and spent the rest of the afternoon with Glinda, only secretly hoping the family had made it out safely. It was always risky to help her victims flee during the day, but if she waited until after nightfall, Morrible would get suspicious at the long time it took her to carry out her assignment.

It was always like that. But maybe soon it wouldn't have to be anymore. Maybe, if she could come up with an actual plan to steal Morrible's books, she and Glinda could find a way to stop this once and for all. For now, though, she had to keep doing what she'd been doing all this time.

After leaving Glinda, Elphaba already walked in the direction of her apartment, but then she slowed and looked up. It was completely dark by now. She didn't have anything else to do, anyway, so she might as well return to Kiamo Ko. She still needed to persuade Fiyero to leave Oz, after all.

Making up her mind, she passed by her apartment and left the City instead, making sure no-one was around to see her before shooting up into the sky. Remaining high up to keep from being spotted from the ground, she flew off towards the Vinkus and kept going until she could make out the dark shape of a castle nestled between the mountains.

Fiyero didn't hear her coming, which she was glad about. At least she hadn't lost her touch. She managed to sneak all the way up to his bedroom door again without him hearing her, but when she hesitantly knocked on the open door and he spotted her, he shifted almost instantly into his other form. He growled.

She held up both hands in surrender. "Okay, listen," she said sternly. "I'm not here to let you rip me to pieces – I'm here to save your life, so calm down and hear me out."

He huffed.

"Morrible wants you dead," she continued, but upon hearing that name, he bristled again.

"Why do you do this for her?" he demanded. She could tell that he was trying to calm himself down again, but it was hard for him. "I just… I can't believe you would be on her side. After what you told me she did… How can you even look at yourself in the mirror? How do you _live_ with yourself?"

She wanted to snap at him that she'd never been able to look at herself in a mirror, albeit in her earlier life that was not for the reasons he thought; and that she couldn't live with herself, either. That she hated herself every single day for the things she'd done and for the person she was.

She didn't say that, though. She just muttered, "I don't have a choice."

Fiyero blinked at that, taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be this… meek. He was a little amazed that she wasn't fighting or yelling back at him. She'd certainly been fighting all the previous times he's seen her, but now she almost seemed ashamed.

As she should be, he thought. "You always have a choice."

"No," she said. "I don't. That's not the point, anyway. The point is that she wants you dead and for you to stay safe, and _alive_ , you have to leave this place."

He looked up in surprise. "You're not going to kill me?"

She seemed shocked that he would even suggest that. "Of course not!"

"I thought you'd come back to finish the job," he said. "Especially after what I said to you the other day."

"I just told you I'm here to save your life!"

He shrugged. "I thought you were lying."

She shook her head. "I never _really_ had any intention of killing you," she admitted. "If I did, don't you think I'd have done it last time I was here? Why would I have gone through the trouble of healing you if I was going to kill you anyway? I've only ever killed a handful of people in my life and most of them were Gale Force soldiers during my time as a rebel."

"But –"

"We should hurry."

He stared at her. "You're really going to help me escape? Is that why you've never killed anyone? Did you help them escape, too?"

She sighed impatiently. "Yes. Can you stop asking questions now?"

"I thought you'd come back to explain," he said and she rolled her eyes. He frowned. "I don't understand, Elphaba. You're here to kill me, but you're going to help me escape instead… Why work with her at all? The Elphaba I knew in that cell in Southstairs would rather have cut off her own hands than work with Morrible, so what changed?"

"You don't know me," she said bitterly. "We spent one night together in a dungeon. How well could you really know me after that?"

"Well enough," he said. "Now tell me."

She didn't say anything, because she knew he was right. If she'd ever had had a choice, she would never have worked with Morrible. Not even to save all the people she was supposed to murder, the way she was doing now. She probably wouldn't even have thought of that. She was too hot-headed. She'd have defied Morrible openly if she could, gone down fighting rather than do a single thing for that terrible woman, but that didn't change anything. She couldn't. It was as simple as that.

"You're not the only one she's done things to, you know," she said finally, her voice low.

He touched her shoulder, gently turning her around. "What did she do?"

He felt a shudder go through her. "It doesn't matter." She looked up at him. "Will you let me help you escape now?"

"I suppose." He let go of her, stepping back. "Where are we going?"

"You," she corrected him, "are going to cross the Impassable Desert, with some magical help. To Ev, I think. It's closest."

"You're not coming?"

She gave him a look. "I can't leave," she said shortly, turning around. "Now come on. It's dark already – we should go if I want to make it all the way to Ev and back to the Emerald City without being spotted."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "No."

She spun back around to face him. "What?"

"I said no," he repeated. "There's nothing for me in Ev."

"There's _life_ for you in Ev," she stressed, but he shook his head.

"Is there?" he asked. "What kind of life do you think I could have, Elphaba? Look at me. I'm a monster. At the slightest provocation, I turn into a beast. I can't be among other humans – or Animals, for that matter. I can never really live. I can only survive, and I'm not sure if that's enough for me anymore."

She studied him more closely. "She put a spell on you," she said slowly. "But why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Like I said that night in the dungeons, she didn't want to kill me. She wanted me to suffer. About a year after they took you away, I think, she had me brought to her and she turned me into a monster." He sounded bitter. "She kept me as her private pet, to attack people who opposed her and to execute particularly influential rebels, to set an example; but I escaped after a while. She didn't go after me. I thought she didn't know where I'd gone, but if she sent you after me now… Maybe she found out, or maybe she knew all along, but she has to know now."

"She knows," Elphaba confirmed quietly. "You should get away from here."

"This is my home," he said. "It has been for two years. It's all I have left of my family. I'm not going to leave it behind just to be on the run from everyone for the rest of my life." He nodded, as if that finalised his decision. "Thank you for warning me and for trying to help, but it's okay. You can kill me now, or just leave me here for Morrible to send other people. It doesn't matter."

Anger flared up inside of her. "And what do you think Morrible will do to _me_ if she discovers I didn't do my job and you're still alive?"

He shrugged. "Then kill me."

"No," she seethed. "I will do no such thing." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're selfish."

"You're the one who's working with Morrible!"

"Against my will!"

"Then just stop doing it!"

"It's not that easy!"

He snorted, obviously frustrated – she could see him start to shift a little again. "It never is, is it?"

She gave him a deadly look. "I'll leave you to calm down," she informed him coldly, although whether she was leaving so he could calm down or she, she didn't really know. "Think about your decision. I'll be back in a little while and then I'm taking you to Ev, whether you like it or not." With that, she strode out of the room, leaving a baffled Fiyero behind.

She just couldn't believe him. She understood what he meant, of course. She, too, knew that surviving wasn't the same as living. Still, she hadn't expected him to turn down her offer to help him leave Oz. Surely it was better to be alive and try to build a life in a new place than to die in the place that was your home?

On the other hand, she'd never had a home. Not one that felt like home, anyway. His family had been murdered, she knew that; perhaps Kiamo Ko was the only connection he still had to them and he couldn't lose that. If he had nothing left to live for, he truly might not care.

 _She_ did, though. Not just because her own life was on the line, either. He may have changed, grown bitter and resentful and angry, but deep down she knew a part of him still had to be the same boy she'd met in Southstairs that night, just like a part of her was deep down still that same girl. A small, insignificant part, yes, but a person couldn't change completely. She was certain of that.

She flew around for a while, trying to allow the wind to blow the thoughts straight out of her head to clear it. Usually, this worked very well. She loved to fly – she had ever since the initial pain and discomfort of having wings had passed – and it always made her feel carefree, but it didn't work as well as she'd hoped this time. Eventually, she landed lightly and took a long walk through the woods. She returned to the castle only when the sky in the east began to lighten, signalling the arrival of a new day.

"Very brave of you," he said when she showed up again. He was in the kitchen this time, rummaging around in a drawer.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he clarified, "Coming back to antagonise the beast."

She just rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms. "Are you ready to come with me now?"

"Would you like some tea?" he offered, walking past her and over to the woodstove in the corner. "If you're going to insist on hanging around here all the time, anyway, I may as well offer you a drink."

She followed, clearly irritated, as had been his intention. "Fiyero –"

"Ginger or camomile? I'm afraid I don't have anything else right now."

She scowled. "Where do you even get tea?"

He managed to light the woodstove and turned. "I go out for groceries every once in a while," he said, opening a cupboard. He purposefully moved as relaxed and slowly as possible, further irritating her until she finally burst.

"Fiyero, you're coming with me now or I'll magic you with me," she threatened.

He turned to face her, narrowing his eyes. "What's it to you?" he demanded. "Are you just trying to save your own skin?"

"Partly," she admitted, deciding to be open with him, since every other technique she'd used so far had failed. "I'm also trying to save the life of the boy I met in the dungeons that night."

He shook his head. "That boy doesn't exist anymore."

"I can see him," she said matter-of-factly and he turned back, now annoyed himself, although he wasn't sure why.

They were both silent for a while. Then he sighed and turned around again, looked at her, and admitted gruffly, "You _are_ brave, you know. For standing up to Morrible the way you do."

She huffed. "You still blame me for working with her in the first place. You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, and he did. "Regardless of why you think you have to do it, it's a fact that you defy her every time you don't kill one of the rebels Morrible tells you to kill. You put yourself in danger for others. That's brave." The truth was that no matter what reason she had for working with Morrible, he knew she was braver than he had ever been. She had been out saving lives while he'd been sitting here in his castle, trying to remain hidden from the world.

Elphaba, however, just shook her head and turned away from him. She wrapped her arms around her own waist as if to support herself, which surprised him. She usually acted so confident that it threw him off to see her vulnerable, even if he had seen it before, a long time ago in a dark dungeon.

He recognised something in her that he had been feeling, too; a kind of loneliness, mixed with grief and despair and a hopelessness for the future that he knew was similar to his own. She was a pawn, somehow controlled by Morrible with no hopes of escaping. He was a monster no-one dared to approach, let alone befriend. Both of them were doomed to be lonely forever, in their own way. Also, he was willing to admit he didn't really want her to leave again, now that he finally had someone he could talk to. Even fighting was better than having no-one to speak with at all.

Perhaps that was what made him do what he did next, or perhaps it was just his usual brainlessness. In any case, he approached her and caught her chin, making her look at him.

"You _are_ brave," he insisted, his fingers moving up to run softly across her cheek. She looked at him with wide eyes, but she didn't protest when he leaned in closer. He wasn't really thinking about it, but he suddenly knew why he was doing it and it was not for a noble reason. It was not just because she was beautiful; not even just because she was someone familiar, the only person who'd called him by his name in four years, the only familiar face he'd seen. Not entirely, anyway. It was mainly because he knew that he might never get another chance to kiss a girl again.

Their lips touched. Hers were soft, he noted, and her hair smelt nice, like rain and wood. He moved his free hand to her waist, pulling her closer against him. She was trembling a little, but since she was tentatively beginning to kiss him back, he didn't suppose that was a bad thing. Slowly, he felt the tension flow from her body.

Her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders, locking behind his neck. He held one arm tightly around her, feeling her wings tucked up against her back, his other hand still cupping her face. She sighed softly into the kiss and he deepened it, a little surprised at how easily she allowed him access to her mouth. His fingers dug into her hip, pulling her even closer. He ran his thumb over her cheek. Her skin was warm and when he peeked at her face, he saw that she had closed her eyes, melting into the kiss.

Even if she hadn't been the last girl he'd probably ever kiss, he thought, it would still have been a great kiss. He wasn't sure why. She didn't do anything special; she didn't seem very experienced at all, now that he thought about it, but there was just something about the taste of her mouth and the feel of her body against his.

He drew back slightly and rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting a little. She reached up to touch his face gently and only then did he realise his face had changed slightly into his other form. Abruptly, he jerked away from her and turned around, his hands flying up to his transformed face. How had that even happened? Could _nothing_ in his life be normal anymore?

"Fiyero," she said softly, but he growled and she recoiled instinctively. "Don't do that," she tried.

He growled again. "Stay away from me."

"Yero…"

"Go," he spat. "Get out of here."

"No," she said, suddenly stubborn. She moved in closer, despite the fact that he was shying away from her. When his back hit the wall, he turned away, but she spun him around with more strength than he'd thought her capable of and her lips crashed back against his.

He pushed her away roughly, so roughly she stumbled and fell to the floor, and then he instantly felt guilty. He growled again, in frustration this time. "Elphaba…"

"You can push me away all you want," she declared, scrambling to her feet and lifting her chin stubbornly. "I think it's a rather rude thing to do, but if you feel the need to do it, fine. I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be!" he shouted, but she just snorted.

"Why?" She approached him again. "You had a spell put on you," she said. "You were enchanted to physically change whenever you get… excited, I suppose." She actually blushed a little at that, which looked pretty on her, but he was too distraught to even smile.

"So what?" she continued.

He stared at her as if she had gone completely crazy. " _So what_?!" he echoed incredulously.

She shrugged. "Just because you look like a monster, as you like to put it, doesn't mean you are one, Fiyero. You're still the same boy who offered me his blanket four years ago and pretended not to be freezing all night long just so I wouldn't feel guilty for taking it."

He hadn't known that she knew that – that he hadn't told her how cold he'd been that night, because he didn't want her to feel guilty over accepting his blanket. That didn't matter now, though.

"How do you know?" he demanded. "How do you know I'm not a monster? How do you know I'm still the same?" He wasn't. Not always. She should be afraid of him – of what he could do to her if he lost control.

She obviously wasn't, though. She just shrugged again. "I can tell," she said simply.

He fell silent at that, lost for words.

She took another step closer to him and reached out. He flinched, but she cradled his face between her hands and kissed him again, softly, gently, making a point of showing him that she really didn't care about the way he looked. She drew away and studied him.

"Besides," she said, continuing her speech as if she hadn't just interrupted it to kiss him, "it's not by far as bad as before, when you attacked me, and it's certainly not as bad as you seem to think it is."

"I have _fangs_ ," he stressed and she grinned impishly at him.

"So just make sure not to bite me when we're kissing and you should be fine."

He stared at her again.

She sighed and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, she suddenly gasped and doubled over, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping her head. Fiyero, his own misery forgotten, instantly crouched down beside her. "Fae? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, curling into a ball on the floor and whimpering softly. Not knowing what to do, he gently cradled her in his arms and stroked her hair. As he did so, he noticed absently that his hands were normal again – those of a man, rather than a beast. "Elphaba?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I… I have to go," she said hoarsely.

He kept his arms around her, however, effectively trapping her. "Why? What's going on?"

"Morrible," she whispered.

He stared at her. "She's doing this to you?" he asked horrified. Suddenly, he began to understand what she meant when she said she didn't have a choice in working for Morrible. Did the old hag control her through pain?

Elphaba nodded. "It'll get worse if I don't go back soon," she said hoarsely, grimacing in pain. She rubbed her temples, even though that probably wouldn't help, he thought. Not if her headache was caused by magic. "And if I don't go and she suspects I've deserted, she'll do much worse than this." She shuddered and pulled away from him. "I have to go," she said again.

"I understand." He got up as well. "Elphaba…"

She was already at the door and she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Thank you," he said. "For… you know. Everything." He wasn't sure what 'everything' was, exactly, or what would happen now, but he'd stopped trying to predict the future a long time ago. It was no use, anyway. He'd just take any happy moment he could get – and regardless of his initial distrust of Elphaba and the way he still felt about her working for Morrible, for some reason he did feel happy now. Happier than he had in years, anyway.

She seemed to be debating something. "Fiyero… what did this mean to you?"

He didn't see the point in lying to her. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. "A lot."

She nodded, as if that made perfect sense. Maybe it did, to her, in the same way it did to him. "Would you… Would you mind me coming back here? In a few days, maybe?" She smirked ever so slightly. "I mean… I still have to convince you to let me take you to Ev."

His eyes lit up at that and he knew she could see that, too. "I'd love that. You coming back, I mean."

She smiled, then winced when Morrible apparently sent another stab of pain through her head. "I will, then." She moved back into the room for a final kiss, wrapping her arms around him tightly for a moment before letting go and leaving the castle of Kiamo Ko.

* * *

 **So what I was referring to is, obviously, the Fiyeraba.** **This scene popped into my head after watching another ALAYM live on stage. In the show, with all the built-up tension and the despair, the Fiyeraba just... bursts out, and t** **hat's what I was going for in this chapter, too - no slow build-up like in most of my other stories, but a different side of them together. It's rushed, I know, but it was meant to be rushed. (This made much more sense in my head, but I guess you get the gist.)**


	6. The Truth

**Yep, that was a glitch that caused the chapter to show up twice - it should be fixed now!**

* * *

 **The Truth**

The next evening found Elphaba pacing up and down the living room of her tiny apartment, cursing herself and Morrible and the entire world. Mostly herself, though.

After debating for a while, she'd decided to share what had happened with Glinda, who had only stared at her for so long that Elphaba began to think she'd accidentally magically frozen her blonde friend.

"Elphaba," Glinda had finally said slowly, blinking a few times. The fact that she'd used Elphaba's full name didn't promise much good. She'd opened and closed her mouth, clearly lost for words, and shook her head in rage. What eventually came out was a heated, "What in Oz are you thinking?!"

Elphaba wasn't sure, actually.

What was she supposed to do now? She couldn't believe she'd even let this happen, either. She'd been convinced there would never be another person she'd care about; she wouldn't let herself. And now, somehow, she'd broken her own rule.

Perhaps it was just attraction and nothing more. Perhaps it was just the idea of someone caring about her, in any way at all, and treating her with something that was not contempt or anger. She knew what Fiyero had meant, however, when he'd told her it had meant a lot to him. It had meant a lot to her, too, and she wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing.

Glinda had run over to the door to make sure it was shut and locked – which it was, as always – before turning to face the green girl, her blue eyes blazing. "Elphaba, if she finds out –"

"She won't," Elphaba interrupted.

"She _will_ ," Glinda had emphasised, "and you know it."

Elphaba sighed. "I do know," she'd admitted. "But…" She struggled to explain this to her best friend. She never thought she'd been deserving of kindness, of love. Not before her family had died, because she'd always been green and unwanted, but especially not now. She had done too many wicked things to ever be deserving of anything good again.

And yet… there was Fiyero. Sweet, kind Fiyero with a heart bigger than the whole castle of Kiamo Ko, who had given her his blanket and talked her through what she thought to be her last night alive in Southstairs four years ago. Who had kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in the world, rather than a wicked witch with several murders on her conscience. He was too good for her and yet he believed himself to be a monster.

Between the two of them, she was more of a monster than he could ever be.

Glinda's face had softened when she'd realised what her friend was thinking. "Elphie…" She bit her lip. "I'm not sure what to say. I want you to be happy, of course I do. I just… don't want you to be dead," she'd said helplessly.

"I'll end up dead either way, Glin," Elphaba had argued. "We both know that, too."

She knew she shouldn't go back. It would only get her into trouble – and him, too, most likely. If Morrible found out, they'd both be killed. But wasn't that a risk worth taking? If this was love, or even if it was just some weird kind of friendship with some attraction mixed in, shouldn't they take advantage of it?

When she voiced that thought, Glinda paused, looking thoughtful.

"Yes," she said finally, before shaking her head. "No. Maybe. I don't know."

"I do," said Elphaba and after a long look at the dark-haired witch, Glinda had caved. She knew her better than anyone; they'd been friends for three years, ever since Glinda had come to the Emerald City. The blonde could always guess what Elphaba was thinking and she could see straight into her soul. She knew what Elphaba's life was like. She could see what this meant to her and Elphaba knew her friend would never want to deny her any kind of happiness, but she understood her concerns about her safety. She was often concerned about Glinda's safety, too, living in the palace with Morrible – even if she was a public figure now and couldn't be harmed without further antagonising the people.

"Do you understand, Glin?" Elphaba had asked softly and Glinda had heaved a deep sigh, but nodded.

"I do."

There were so few things left in her life that were worth living for. Glinda knew that, too. Sometimes when Elphaba awoke from sleep, she'd lie in her bed and stare at the mouldy ceiling, trying to come up with a reason for her to get out of bed at all. Her life was empty and dull. She saved lives, but it felt like even that didn't mean anything anymore. She was a shell of her former self and there was nothing to look forward to; the future was just a large, black hole, more of the same, until the day she died – probably when Morrible discovered what she was doing and slowly and very painfully murdered her.

If this thing, whatever it was, between her and Fiyero was something that made her heart beat faster, something that made her curious about where it could go and that made her actually look forward to being able to see him again… then why wouldn't she take that chance? Sooner or later, they'd both be dead, anyway.

Glinda had promised to protect her in any way she could – something Elphaba didn't want her friend to do, because it would put her in danger, too; but she would just make sure Glinda didn't need to protect her at all. She'd do this, no matter the cost for herself, and she'd try to keep as many people out of it as possible to minimise the potential damage if worse came to worst.

Her mind made up, she picked up a book to read. It would be another while before dark, but once the sun went down, she'd return to the castle.

* * *

He was surprised she'd come back. Despite her promise, he hadn't really expected her to. At first, he'd been afraid one of Morrible's men was coming for him when he'd heard a sound come from the hallway; but at the sight of Elphaba, he relaxed.

"Hey," he said.

She smiled a little shyly when she saw him, clearly uncertain. He thought it was sweet. It was ridiculous, really, how giddy that little smile of hers made him feel.

She lingered in the doorway to his room and then blurted out, "This is weird."

"It is," he agreed. "Do you want to end it here?"

She shook her head. "No."

He grinned. "Good, because I don't, either."

She still didn't seem convinced, though, and she bit her lip. "You do know how dangerous this is, don't you?"

"I do," he said.

Elphaba nodded, but she was still staring at the floor and he moved over to her, gently pulling her into his arms. He could feel her wings through the fabric of her cloak. It felt a little strange. He still had to ask her how that happened, although he thought he could safely assume it had something to do with her magic.

Now, though, he asked, "Will you tell me what she does to you?"

He watched her face closely. She averted her gaze again, but he pressed, "You can trust me, Fae. It's not like I don't know what Morrible can do. What is it she holds over your head to make you work for her? Why do you do it?"

She sighed. "Because she _makes_ me do it if I don't voluntarily do it for her," she said, keeping her head down so he couldn't see her face.

He frowned and she elaborated, "I mean that literally, Fiyero. She… Her magic is more powerful than mine."

He tensed at that. "Are you saying…?" Surely Morrible wasn't _that_ powerful?

"That's why I cooperate with her, rather than fight her," she explained, avoiding his gaze. "She can't read my mind, thank Oz; but she can control my actions. She just… takes over. She only does that if I don't work with her, so I pretend to go along with everything she tells me to do, meanwhile helping people escape instead of killing them." Her face twisted into an expression of grief and regret. "I learnt the hard way that cooperating is easier," she added, her voice only barely above a whisper.

He understood what she meant and he wondered how many people Morrible had forced her to kill before she'd realised she was better off cooperating. Not that many, he suspected; Elphaba was too smart to take very long to figure that out. He felt guilty now for all the things he'd accused her of and everything he'd thought about her. She hadn't had any more of a choice in the matter than he had had.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, tightening his grip on her. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have known." She shrugged. "You've seen her do it before, though. The headaches she uses to warn me are a part of it. If I don't respond, or I do something out of line, she takes over completely and makes me do whatever it is she wants me to do – and then some, just to punish me for being disobedient."

Now, more than ever, he understood why she did what she did and why there was nowhere for her to go. He'd never fully believed her when she said she didn't have a choice; now he knew she'd spoken the truth. What kind of choice was a choice between cooperating with the most horrible person in Oz or being manipulated into doing awful things by that very same person? It wasn't so different from what Morrible had done to him and he wondered if the green girl was aware of the things she did when Morrible 'took over'. At least he had always had the small consolation that he could never actually remember what the old hag had made him do.

He wanted to ask her what kind of things Morrible had made _her_ do, but he didn't have the heart. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, anyway.

Elphaba extracted herself from his grip, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "What were you doing?"

Rather than pushing her, he went along with the change in subject. "Painting," he said. He showed her the canvas he'd been working on. It was a painting of Kiamo Ko by night, the towers black and foreboding against the dark blue sky, lightning flashing behind it. It was exactly the picture Elphaba had imagined when she first came here, a few days ago, but what struck her most about it was how lifelike it was.

"Yero, that is _good_ ," she said in amazement as she studied it closer. "You're talented!"

He smiled a little wryly. "Thanks. It's the only thing that kept me sane in here," he admitted. "I used to love painting, before… and I had to continue after. What else was I supposed to do in here, all by myself?"

"What else do you paint?" she asked curiously and he showed her the paintings he'd made. Portraits of his father and his mother, of his older brother and his two little sisters. The sun setting over the Thousand Year Grasslands, bathing them in a soft golden light. Impressions of fangs and claws, the beast he believed he now was; but also of dungeons, dark and damp and grey, and of pain. He'd painted what she had felt, these past years, and it made her feel even more connected to him. It was funny, she mused, how shared misery and loneliness could forge a bond between two people faster and tighter than years of spending time together under normal circumstances.

He was watching her closely now, those bright blue eyes of his unreadable. "Are you all right?" he asked her quietly.

She blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Morrible," he said. "Why did she give you that headache yesterday? What did she want from you?"

"Oh." She deflated. "She had another assignment for me." She sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "I just hope those people made it to the border safely."

"Does she do that every time?" he wanted to know. "Make sure you're in pain to let you know she wants to see you?"

"If I don't return to her in time, yes," said Elphaba, leaning heavily against the wall. "She likes inflicting pain on people, even when it's not really necessary to make them do what she wants. She especially likes doing it to me because it shows me how powerless I am against her, despite my own magic. I can't stop her. I never could. Perhaps I'm not strong enough, perhaps I'm just not skilled enough and I could learn, but… it's useless, really. She's had years of practice that I haven't. I could never catch up with her. I stand no chance against her and she knows it."

Fiyero clenched his fists and she could see the muscles rippling beneath his skin again, betraying his rage. She touched his shoulder lightly and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Instead of allowing his anger to take over, he took Elphaba in his arms again, holding her to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She closed her eyes at the feeling, her arms encircling his waist. It scared her a little how strongly she responded to him, but at the same time it felt wonderful. Still…

"This is stupid," she said to his chest. "Last week, you hated me for working with Morrible and you thought I was trying to kill you."

He looked thoughtful. "I didn't hate you. I just didn't understand." He shrugged. "I get it now. I should have seen it sooner, really, after what she's done to me. I of all people should have known what she's capable of… that she has ways to get what she wants from even the strongest of people."

She looked up at him. "And now what?"

He sighed. "I don't know."

"I have an idea," she said. "Let's pretend to be normal."

He raised his eyebrows and she chuckled at the look on his face. "I mean it. Let's just… do normal things. You could show me the castle, maybe, or we could go for a walk, or make dinner together…"

"I like that," he said truthfully. "But can we do something else first?"

She gave him a questioning look and he admitted sheepishly, "I'd really like to kiss you again."

She rolled her eyes at that, but she grinned. "I can live with that."

She stayed with him the rest of the day and for the first time in a long time, they both felt normal. They explored the castle, Fiyero telling Elphaba everything he knew about its myths and history, showing her the hidden rooms and passages. They went into the kitchen and prepared a meal together. When Elphaba asked Fiyero how he came by his food, he shrugged.

"I gather," he said. "Sometimes I go out into the woods. I found a few abandoned farmsteads in the vicinity and emptied their storage rooms. When it's necessary, I cover up and go to the market to buy food, or fresh paint or paintbrushes." He hesitated, then added, "Sometimes I go out and hunt."

He had hunted long before he had been imprisoned; it was part of his culture, and as a prince, he had learnt a lot about the Vinkun culture. Nevertheless, somehow admitting it now felt like such an animalistic thing to do and it made him feel ashamed.

Elphaba, however, only nodded, his reply apparently making sense to her, and she didn't say anything else on the subject.

A couple of times when they kissed, he caught himself changing again; but she never seemed to care, which made him feel a little more confident about himself. They ate dinner together and he disappeared off to do the dishes. At some point when he turned around, however, much to his horror, she suddenly approached him with a pair of scissors in her hands and he looked at her in alarm. "What in Oz –"

She rolled her eyes at him. "If I was going to kill you, I'd have done it already, and I wouldn't have used scissors," she said, clearly amused. "I can promise you one thing, though: I'm not going to be kissing you again anytime soon until you've had a bath, a shave, and a haircut."

He chuckled, mildly relieved. "I didn't really have any reason for baths and haircuts before."

"You do now." She held up the scissors. "Shoulder-length hair really isn't your look." A faint grimace crossed her face. "Ugh, I sound like Glinda," she complained. "She's my best friend and she always goes on about what does and does not look good on a person." She shook her head. "I mean it, though. If you don't let me cut it, I'll cut it in your sleep."

And so he let her shave him and cut his hair; and after he'd taken a bath as well and looked into the mirror, he had to admit it was a huge improvement. He felt more like himself again than he had in years. When he appeared again, Elphaba smiled in satisfaction and circled him, studying him from all angles.

"Much better," she decided, tilting her head a little to the side and reaching up to brush some of his sandy hair out of his eyes. "I mean, I could cut this a bit shorter, if you want me to, but I like it this way."

He shrugged. "I don't care either way," he said honestly. "Whatever you want."

She smiled and kissed him briefly on the lips.

They moved back upstairs not long after that and sat down on his bed again, both of them a little uncertain at first. After a while, Elphaba curled up in his arms and he rested his chin on the top of her head, pulling her hair loose from the bun she'd kept it in and slowly running his fingers through the long strands.

"You know that this, whatever it is, won't last," she said matter-of-factly. "I shouldn't have come back here at all, really. Sooner or later, she will find out. I should leave, and you should flee Oz."

He knew that, but he didn't care. "What if I want you to come back more often?"

She shook her head slightly. "I shouldn't endanger you like that. Not even if you want me to."

"Elphaba, this is no way to live," he said. "Ever since my family was killed and I was taken away, I haven't really been living. Surviving isn't living. What you're doing isn't living, either." Suddenly determined, he tightened his grip on her and said, "We have to stop her."

"How, Fiyero?" she asked him. She sounded weary. "Don't think I haven't tried. The rebels have tried for years. She plays mind games, Yero – literally. She controls King Oscar and through him, she controls all of Oz. She can do anything she wants to do because anyone who dares to stand up to her can be obliterated in the blink of an eye."

"You have magic, too," he persisted. "What else do you want to do, Fae? Go back to your old life? Forget about me and continue to pretend-kill innocent people until she finds out and kills you? Or continue your job and visit me in secret until the day we get caught and she'll skin us both alive?" He felt her shudder at that, probably because they both knew Morrible would actually, literally, be capable of doing such a thing. "We could flee, of course – leave the country…"

Elphaba shook her head in frustration. "Don't you think I've thought of that?" she demanded. "I would have left ages ago if I'd been able to. She made sure I wasn't. I tried once," she admitted. "The moment I crossed the border, my head exploded. I was flying and the pain was so sudden and so terrible I crashed down; I had to crawl back to the border and the moment I was back in Oz, it stopped. She warned me after that. If I try to leave, she'll know – she has some kind of magical markers in place."

Fiyero was quiet for a while. He couldn't think of any solution to _that_ problem.

"She can't just physically punish people, either," Elphaba said softly. "She could destroy minds just as easily, if she wanted to. I've seen her do it before." She shuddered again, more violently this time. He couldn't even imagine what she must have seen. He didn't _want_ to imagine. "We'd never get away with leaving."

"So if we can't flee and we can't fight, where does that leave us?" he asked her and she sighed heavily.

"I don't know. I've been working on a plan, but it's hardly fool-proof and it would probably end in disaster, anyway." She sighed again. "I just… don't know."

They both fell silent, neither of them really knowing what else to say. He realised bitterly that even though, at last, they weren't lonely anymore, they were still desperate and things were still hopeless. Whatever was going to happen to them, it wasn't going to have a happy ending. Morrible would make sure of that.

* * *

At some point, he must have drifted off to sleep; because when he opened his eyes again, it was morning. He stirred and noticed that he was covered by blankets, but Elphaba wasn't beside him. When he sat up, he found her in the arm chair by the window again, in the same spot she'd been in after she'd healed him that first night, once again fast asleep with her wings tucked tightly around herself for warmth.

Rather than waking her, he sneaked out of the room and went downstairs to light a fire in the kitchen and make them both breakfast. She appeared in the kitchen when he was just setting the table, looking sleepy and with her hair all tousled. It was kind of adorable, although he would never tell her that. She was shivering, but sighed in contentment when she entered the warm kitchen. He could sympathise. Kiamo Ko could get very cold in autumn – in winter even more so.

"You didn't have to sleep in the chair, you know," he told her and she shrugged.

"I wasn't planning to," she admitted. "I planned to leave while it was still dark, but I fell asleep as well."

He brightened. "Does that mean you can't leave again until tonight?"

She hesitated. "It's risky if I stay too long," she said slowly. "Then again, flying by daylight is risky, too, so I suppose there's no harm in staying." She gave him a weary smile. "If you don't mind, of course."

He gave her a look and she chuckled. "All right, then. I'll stay."

She did, and once again they spent the entire day together, talking, reading, and even chasing one another down the halls of Kiamo Ko as if they were two excited little children. Elphaba couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much.

When he'd been chasing her and he eventually caught her with his arms around her waist, one of her wings brushed against his cheek, reminding him to finally ask her the question he'd been wanting to ask for a while. "How did you get these? You didn't have them when we were in Southstairs, or I think I'd have noticed." He gently ran one hand down the edge of one of the wings. It felt a bit leathery, but soft at the same time – like feathers, which was also what they looked like, but harder. Stronger.

She shivered a little at the feeling of him touching it – or perhaps she shivered because of the memory his question brought up; he couldn't be sure. "When Morrible made me her Huntress," she began, "she said it would be easier for me to travel to distant parts of Oz quickly if I had a way to fly. That was the only time she ever showed me her most powerful magic book. She made me cast a levitation spell from it."

Elphaba hadn't known what the spell would do. The word 'levitation' implied she might be able to just soar up into the air at will, which was what she had expected when she'd cast the spell. She hadn't expected the sudden, sharp, agonising pain in her back, followed by the wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. They'd been awkward and heavy at first; she'd actually collapsed under their weight. Morrible had only laughed.

She remembered the moment vividly. Especially the pain, which had been unlike anything she'd ever felt – and that said something, given the things Morrible had already put her through by then. She'd lain there, collapsed on the floor of Morrible's throne room, whimpering, for at least half an hour before she'd been able to so much as move.

Fiyero touched them again, softly running his fingers along the feathers. No-one but her had ever really touched them before, not even Glinda. It was a strange feeling, but she decided that it wasn't really all that unpleasant. "Did it hurt?" he asked.

"Like someone stuck two knives in my back," she murmured, shifting the wings a little. "It was horrible, but after a few days, I got used to them. I had no idea how to fly at first, but I learnt."

"They're so big," he mused, still stroking them. "Do they not get in your way?"

They _were_ big. They had to be in order to carry her weight in the air; when she didn't pull them in, they touched the ground when she stood up straight. "They did, at first, but I learnt to tuck them in," she explained, demonstrating what she meant by folding the wings tightly against her back. They moulded to her body, making it easy for her to cover them with her cloak. "They're not fragile, either – they can bend quite far. I hate that Morrible made me do it, but they grew on me… literally as well as figuratively speaking, I suppose," she added when she realised what she'd said. Fiyero grinned a little.

"Anyway," she continued, "the biggest issue I have with them these days is that fact that I have to cut holes into the backs of all my dresses."

He laughed and carefully pushed one of the wings aside a little. He saw that there were, indeed, two uneven holes cut into her dress, through which the wings emerged.

"I think they're beautiful," he said honestly and she blushed a little at that, which only got worse when he pressed a kiss to the feathers.

"Would you…" She hesitated. "Would you like me to take you flying sometime?"

He blinked at her and she explained, "I've done it before, with Glinda. They're strong enough to carry two people. It wouldn't be wise to go out by daylight, but if I ever stay another night here, I could take you."

He couldn't imagine those wings being able to carry the weight of both of them, but he supposed she'd know that better than he did. The thought of flying terrified and exhilarated him at the same time. "I think I'd like that."

She smirked, sensing his hesitation. "Just wait until you're up in the air." She laughed and he couldn't help but smile at the sound.

She left him again that evening at nightfall and although she didn't exactly say she would be coming back, Fiyero knew she would. If she wasn't planning to, she'd have said good-bye, but she didn't. Instead, she just kissed his cheek and flew off. He watched her go, marvelling at the sight of her leaping off his bedroom balcony, her wings stretching out to catch the wind and then beating in the air, once, twice, taking her up and away. He hoped he was right and she would indeed come back.

* * *

 **By the way - I forgot to ask before, but I'd love to hear any favourite lines again, if you have them!**


	7. Accidentally

**Accidentally**

She did come back, a few days later. And again. She returned to Morrible every few days to see if the old hag had a new assignment for her, but once it was done and Morrible was satisfied, Elphaba came flying back to Kiamo Ko – carefully, always checking if she wasn't being followed.

Fiyero still wondered what someone like her could ever want with someone like him. Hell, he wondered what _anyone_ could want with someone like him.

Then again, it wasn't like she was living a normal life herself, he had to acknowledge. She wasn't exactly the type of girl who spent time with her girlfriends by day, chattering and gossiping and having tea, and went out dancing by night in an attempt to pick up a handsome fellow. The mere idea of Elphaba doing those things made him grin. She'd told him Glinda was her only friend and he was glad she at least had someone else to talk to and to help her, but he couldn't imagine them gossiping over cups of tea and lemon cakes like most girls her age did.

Usually when she came over, they just sat on his bed together and talked. They played a game, each trying to find out more about the other; they talked about their families, their interests, their lives so far, and their hopes for the future. They hardly ever talked about her predicament with Morrible, however, or about his enchantment. When they were together, it was so much easier to focus on the positive things. She often spent the night, too, and although she agreed to share his bed, she always warned him sternly to stay on his own side.

It was strange for Elphaba to be with him like that. Had they met under normal circumstances, she knew he probably wouldn't even have given her a passing glance – aside perhaps from an astonished one at her skin colour – and yet here they were. It was crazy, it was dangerous, it was everything she had always read about but never believed in; but she really thought she could love this cursed prince and regardless of how much that baffled her, she didn't question it.

She voiced her thoughts one day when they were walking down the hallway to his bedroom together after dinner. "Do you think you'd ever have noticed me when you were still just the Vinkun prince and I was just the Munchkin governor's weird, green daughter?"

"You're not weird," he said, almost without thinking. He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe. I don't know, really. That life… it seems so far away now."

"Yes," she agreed, following him into his bedroom. "I know what you mean. It's just… strange, you know? I mean, I don't even know you that well."

He chuckled. "What, you don't usually go around kissing men you barely even know?"

She stomped his arm, but she was laughing a little, too. "No. In fact, before you, I've only ever kissed one other guy."

"Who was he?" Fiyero asked, taking her hand and guiding her over to the bed. They both sat down on it and Elphaba folded her legs underneath her.

"His name was Gazilon," she said. "He was a rebel, like me. I'd been with them for about a year when I first met him. He was four or five years older than I was, but he'd only recently joined our group and I was the one to show him how it was done." She smiled a little. "He was a good man. Even back then, he'd been through his fair share of hardship already and he adjusted to rebel life rather quickly. He was kind and honourable and, as he used to claim, desperately in love with me."

Fiyero fidgeted a little beside her. She could tell he didn't really like the idea, which amused her a little. They'd hit off this exciting, forbidden romance only a little while ago and now he was already jealous? Then again, the idea of another girl fawning over him made her blood start to boil, too, so maybe his reaction wasn't so strange after all.

Her smile grew sombre and she lowered her gaze, staring down at the floor, but not seeing it. Her mind was far away, in a clearing in the woods years ago.

"He got caught," she said, her voice barely audible. "He and some others. They were caught by the Gale Force and locked in cages, to lure out the other rebels, while the soldiers went out to look for more of us. I managed to sneak up to the cages unseen, but none of the spells I tried on the locks worked and I couldn't free them. They came back." She swallowed. "Gazilon told me to get out. I didn't want to, but he said I wouldn't be of any use to them if I got captured, too, and I knew he was right."

Fiyero was listening attentively, playing with her fingers, but she didn't look at him as she continued.

"That's when I kissed him," she said. "Through the bars of the cage he was in. I don't even know why I did that, if maybe I had a sense of foreboding, a hint of a premonition, or if it was just the emotion of the moment; but I did. Then I hid. I thought I'd get another shot at freeing them, perhaps later, when they were being transported back to the Emerald City. Only they weren't transported."

Fiyero understood instantly. "They were killed."

She nodded calmly. She'd always only been able to think about this memory distantly, as a story she'd heard, rather than something that had happened to herself. It made her feel numb and numbness was good. Better than tears and hysterics, at least. "Yes. They were stabbed to death with spears right then and there, through the bars of the cages. I was up in a tree close to Gazilon. He looked right at me when he died." She'd never forgotten what it felt like to look into those dark blue eyes and watch them drain of life completely, leaving them dead and broken. She'd had to stuff her fist into her mouth to stifle her screams.

Fiyero opened his mouth, but she warned him, "Don't you dare say you're sorry." They both remembered their conversation in the dungeons, a couple of years before. Fiyero wrapped his arms around her and as she leaned into him, she added softly, "Those words don't hold any more meaning now than they did then."

He nodded. He understood.

They were both silent for a while after that. Then Elphaba abruptly got up. "Let's fly."

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"What?" she asked. "You said you wanted to."

He spluttered weakly, but she just watched him in amusement until he caved. He did want to. He was just also scared. What if she'd drop him?

"I won't drop you," she said simply when he voiced that fear aloud. "Come on, Your Highness, don't be such a wuss." She gave him a teasing nudge with her hip as she walked by him, crossing the room to the balcony doors. "What kind of monster is afraid to fly? I guess that proves you're not really a monster, then."

He sighed the sigh of a long-suffering man, but he did follow her out onto the balcony. He shivered. "It's cold."

"It's colder up there," she said. "You should put on some more clothes."

He eyed the layers she'd put on over her own dress and quickly went back inside to throw on a cardigan and a coat. She unfolded her wings and spread them, each of them just about as wide as she was tall, and she opened her arms. "Okay, now with your back against my chest – yes, like that." She wrapped her arms around him from behind, just underneath his armpits. "I'll wrap my legs around you, too, in a bit," she said. "Don't worry, I won't let you fall. Are you ready?"

He swallowed, peeking over the balcony. It was a long way down. "Um…"

"Great," she said brightly and then she simultaneously flapped her wings and wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms still around him as well, to keep hold of him as they rose higher into the air. He squeaked when he saw the hills below by the light of the moon, but they were still going higher, and then she suddenly stopped ascending and leaned forward so that they were almost horizontal and he was looking straight down at the landscape. If he fell now, he would be completely squashed.

Elphaba's grip was strong, however, both her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him; and very slowly, he began to notice other things than the terror of potentially falling down. The wind rushed past his face and it was cold, but it was also exciting. He was _flying_. He was really flying. An incredulous laugh escaped him and he could hear the smile in Elphaba's voice when she asked, "Having fun?"

"This is terrifying," he admitted, still grinning. "And amazing."

She chuckled. "Isn't it?"

They circled Kiamo Ko twice before she began to descend again, heading for the balcony of his bedroom. She slowed and slowed until they were once again vertically hanging only a hand's width above the balcony floor and then she unwrapped her legs from around his waist and let go of him, allowing him to land on his feet and doing the same thing herself. She tucked her wings back in against her back and when he turned to face her, he saw that her eyes were sparkling. He suspected his were, too.

"That was incredible," he said breathlessly and she smiled widely at him. "Really, it was. I get why you love it so much. Thank you for sharing that with me."

Her smile turned a little bashful and a blush crept up her cheeks when he caught her chin with his fingers and claimed her mouth with his in a hungry, passionate kiss, but she kissed him back. When he pulled away, he let his fingers linger on her cheek for a moment longer before reaching down to take her hand, tugging gently. "Come on. It's freezing out here."

Fiyero went to re-start the fire in his bedroom as Elphaba changed into some nightclothes she always borrowed from him – a pair of pyjama trousers and a loose shirt, in which Fiyero had cut holes for her wings. When she came back, he changed into his nightclothes as well and they both climbed into the bed. He put his arms around her to pull her closer, rubbing her upper arms to warm them, because they felt like ice. It was almost winter now and the night were already very cold, especially up here in the mountains.

They lay in contented silence for a while before he suddenly asked, "Why?", his voice barely above a whisper.

Elphaba sounded confused when she asked, "Why, what?"

He took a breath. "Why aren't you afraid of me when I'm a… a monster?"

She was quiet for a moment, considering that question. He could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tried to think of a way to explain it to him.

"When I was a little girl," she finally said, "the entire village where I lived was afraid of me. They called _me_ a monster, too – and an artichoke, an asparagus, a frog… They thought my skin was unnatural and they were scared of the things I might be able to do with my magical powers. Even my own father and sister were embarrassed to be related to me. These days, I terrify all of Oz and everyone who knows me thinks I'm a freak of nature. My skin. My magic. My wings. Not even to mention the fact that they think I do Morrible's bidding and kill everyone she declares enemies." She shook her head slightly. "Monsters are seldom as bad as they seem," she said. "Usually, they're just people who are different and misunderstood. Like me." She paused for a moment. "Like you."

He was a little taken aback by that revelation. "I look like a _beast_ , Elphaba," he stressed. "You… You're beautiful. How could they ever say such things about you?"

She smiled sadly. "I'm not beautiful, Yero. I never have been and I never will be." She twisted around a little and he felt her kiss his cheek. "But thank you. My skin isn't the main reason I think they're right, though – and neither are my magic or my wings."

He sat up straight suddenly, gaping at her – or, well, at where he thought she was, since he couldn't see her too well in the dark. "You think they're right?! How could you even say such a thing?" he demanded.

"It's true, Fiyero," she said tiredly. "I'm a witch, and not just in the literal sense. You're not the monster – I am. I'm… I'm _wicked_."

He didn't even know what to say to that. To him, Elphaba was the only person who'd been willing to care for him and talk to him despite his curse – even if she _had_ initially tried to fight him. She was the fierce girl he'd admired for her spunk and bravery when he'd first seen her in Southstairs and the reason his faith in humanity had been restored just a little, because she wasn't deterred by his looks and she was still fighting Morrible every day despite its seeming futileness. He could never think of her as a witch – other than in the literal sense of the word, since he'd seen her magic for himself – let alone a wicked one.

She sat up, drew her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them, curling into herself and resting her chin on her knees. "Malina Woods, age thirty-nine," she said quietly. "Mother to Jerni, age sixteen; and Lorn, age fourteen. Wife to Ongar, age forty. All of them shot to death because they participated in rebellious activities."

He looked at her, puzzled and a little worried. "What?"

She continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Darron Sarevia, age twenty-three, who was a spy for the rebels. His parents found him in his bed one morning, stabbed to death. I know they did because I was there; I watched through the window when they found him, hours after he died by my hand." She swallowed. "Anges Lowfield, age fifty-two, and his wife Nelyn, age fifty. Killed with a magic spell in front of their two children, twenty-four-year-old Selia and her younger brother, nineteen-year-old Lacon. Morrible made me run after that one. I didn't want to – I wanted to stay, to apologise, even to beg their children to kill me for what I'd done… but Morrible said she'd make me kill Selia and Lacon, too, if I didn't run. So I ran." Tears had filled her eyes – he could see the shimmer of them in the faint moonlight coming in through the window – but she didn't appear to notice.

"That family wasn't involved in the rebellion at all," she choked out. "She just made me do it to make me see the power she held over me. To rub it in that my free will was gone and that she'd make me do horrible, horrible things if I didn't do what she wanted. She had a Gale Force soldier murder Selia and Lacon that very same day."

Only now did he fully understand. These were the people she'd killed. No, he corrected himself; these were the people Morrible _made_ herkill, before Elphaba had figured out that cooperating was better. Back when she'd still believed she could refuse or fight Morrible. He admired her for that, regardless of what she herself might think. He admired her for trying to fight back, for not giving in straight away, for trying to refuse even though she had to have known that it could cost her her life.

"Seven people," she said, a catch in her voice. "I murdered seven innocent people, Fiyero. I destroyed three families. I killed _children_. How does that not make me wicked?" Her tears had spilled over and were streaming down her face now, though it didn't seem as if she was even aware of that. Fiyero gently wiped them away.

"Seven people," he repeated. "And how much worse would it have been if you'd simply cooperated with her out of fear? How many people's lives have you saved over the years, Elphaba? You are not wicked. You had no choice. Morrible controlled your mind and she made you do horrible things, but you would never have done those things if she hadn't forced you to do them. _She_ is the wicked one. Not you. Never you."

She was crying softly, all pretence gone now, and Fiyero wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly. She clung to him, her fists clutching his shirt.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair almost without thinking. He wasn't even going to deny it; he was tired of always denying, always pretending. He wasn't sure how pure this feeling really was or what it had been born from. Perhaps she had been right when she'd said that under different circumstances, he'd never have noticed her at all, even though he didn't really believe that was true. Still, under the current circumstances, he did know that what he felt for her wasn't like anything he'd ever felt for anyone before and he wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

She didn't reply, but she pulled away and kissed him again, almost desperately, taking her grief, anger, and helplessness and transforming them into passion. He tangled his fingers in her hair and kissed her back. When he deepened the kiss, a soft noise escaped her throat – something between a gasp and a moan. Part of him could not believe he was here, a cursed prince in an empty castle in a land controlled by an evil witch, kissing a girl he'd only had a handful of conversations with and whom he may or may not love, and yet feeling more deliriously happy than he ever had in his life before.

When they broke apart and he saw the way Elphaba's eyes sparkled in the faint moonlight, he suspected she felt the same way. Her eyes were the colour of freshly turned earth and she still had that woodsy smell about her he'd noticed before, the scent that told him she spent a lot of time outdoors. He ran his fingertips over her face, tracing her features from her thin eyebrows to her sharp chin and back up, along her cheek and up the length of her nose. Her skin was so soft.

She did the same, touching his face with those long, slender fingers of hers. He knew he'd changed again slightly at some point during their kiss and he had to resist the urge to pull away, as always; but he didn't see any fear or repulsion in her eyes and that reassured him a little. He licked along the sharp fangs in his mouth, nervous and self-conscious, but she just smiled.

"Remember – don't bite me," she murmured playfully before kissing him again. He couldn't even describe what it did to him to not have her turn away in disgust or fear; to realise that she didn't just _say_ she didn't care, but that she actually meant it. There wasn't the faintest trace of anything but passion and – although perhaps he was being a bit too optimistic there – love in her eyes, her face, and her touch. It almost made him want to cry.

They lived their lives in a bubble of bliss they knew would never hold up for very long, but neither of them really cared when they were together. All that mattered was right now and they took every moment they could get, just the two of them. Just for this moment, they were happy.


	8. Secrets

**Just a warning beforehand - this chapter deals with some sensitive themes. Nothing explicit, but this seemed like something Morrible could do.**

* * *

 **Secrets**

It went that way for quite some time. Elphaba alternated between visiting Morrible, carrying out assignments, and spending as much time with Fiyero as she could. She always flew to Kiamo Ko in the dark and she knew Morrible never checked her apartment, nor did anyone but Glinda ever come there, so she was fairly safe. If Morrible needed her, she'd call; and whenever she did, Elphaba always returned to the City straight away to avoid arousing the older witch's suspicion. A couple of times, she went to see Morrible without the hag having called for her. She did that sometimes. She knew Morrible usually had an assignment for her at least a couple of times each week, so when she hadn't received a call in two or three days, she knew one would be coming soon and she liked to be ahead of Morrible – if only because it spared her some very bad headaches.

Glinda had resigned herself to her friend's decision. Elphaba had expected her to fight it more, but when she asked the blonde about that one day when Glinda was visiting her at her apartment, Glinda just smiled wearily.

"I was planning on fighting it," she admitted. "Until I looked at you and I saw the change in you. You're happier than I've ever seen you, you know that?"

Elphaba gave her a wry half-smile. "It says something about my life that I'm at my happiest when I'm under the control of Horrible Morrible, working for her, and gallivanting around with a guy who was cursed to look like a monster, doesn't it?"

Glinda's face softened. "No, Elphie," she said, reaching for the cup of tea the green girl had poured her. "It says something that you're at your happiest when you're in love."

Her friend gave her a look. "It's only been a few weeks," she argued. "You can't love someone after a few weeks." Even though she'd known, deep down, that that was what she felt, she wasn't ready to admit it to someone else. Not even Glinda.

The blonde, however, just smiled enigmatically as she sipped her tea. "I didn't say you love him," she said. "I said you're _in love_ with him – or falling in love, at least. That's different." She sobered. "Is he still at Kiamo Ko?"

Elphaba nodded and Glinda bit her lip. "You need to get him out of there."

"Do I?" Elphaba asked. "It's a huge castle, Glin. He claims he can remain hidden from Morrible there. He refuses to leave and I can't force him to go."

"Not even using your womanly charm?" Glinda joked weakly, giggling when her friend rolled her eyes at her. "I'm serious, though. I don't like it."

"Me, neither," Elphaba admitted with a sigh. "He won't leave, though. He says it's filled with hidden passageways, trapdoors, those kinds of things, and he'll be able to elude Morrible if she ever comes to look for him, but I'm not so sure. I mean, _I_ can sneak up on him without him noticing. Who says she can't?"

"You were trained to do it, though," Glinda pointed out. "She's not. She has people to do everything for her."

"That's hardly reassuring. If she sends her Captain of the Guard, or anyone else who was trained to sneak around for her, Fiyero will be in just as much trouble."

Glinda thought for a moment. "How is that plan of yours coming along? To steal Morrible's magic books?"

Elphaba made a face. "Not too well," she admitted reluctantly. "I thought I had something figured out, but she keeps changing her security, which makes it much harder. Gale Force guards we could distract, but she's laid a couple of spells over her private rooms that I can't find any counter-spells for. I don't know how to lift them and I don't know any way around them, either – not a certain one, anyway, and we can't afford to gamble."

Glinda nodded. "You're right. Maybe if we wait until she uses one of them, we could take a chance," she mused. "I mean, she brings them out into the open sometimes, right? If we strike before she can put it back where it belongs…"

"But then she'll notice right away that it's gone," Elphaba argued.

Glinda frowned, obviously frustrated. "There has to be _some_ way!"

"Probably," said Elphaba. "We just need to find out what it is." She glanced at her friend. "I did come up with a place to hide the book, though, once we've got it."

Glinda gave her an enquiring look and Elphaba clarified, "Kiamo Ko."

The blonde tilted her head a little to the side. "Isn't that dangerous for Fiyero?"

"Morrible doesn't know he's still there," Elphaba said. "I didn't really want to do it at first, either, but when I told him about our plans regarding the book theft, he insisted. He's not happy with the fact that we'll be putting ourselves in danger like that and he wants to help in any way he can."

Glinda smiled. "That's sweet of him." Her blue eyes suddenly brightened. "Maybe that's just what we need. Help," she said enthusiastically. "What if my father could find us a way to detect and disarm Morrible's protection spells? And maybe Fiyero could help, too. Doesn't he have any books on magic you could read?"

Elphaba stared at the other girl, feeling incredibly stupid. "Oh my Oz, Glin. You're a genius," she said slowly.

Glinda giggled. "Why, thank you, Elphie, but I do think you're being a bit silly now. What did I say? Did I give you an idea?"

"I'm so _stupid_!" Elphaba exclaimed, pushing back her chair and beginning to pace up and down the room. "Glin, there's a library at Kiamo Ko! Fiyero showed me when he gave me a tour, but I didn't really think about it…"

She blushed, much to Glinda's amusement, and the blonde asked innocently, "You had other things on your mind?"

"Something like that," Elphaba muttered. "What I'm trying to say, though, is that it's an old castle where no-one has lived for decades before Fiyero moved in two years ago. No-one set foot in that library for ages. What if there are still books on magic there? The real ones, the ones Morrible banned?"

Glinda held her breath. "Do you think so?"

"It's possible," said Elphaba, grinning widely. "I'll check, next time I'm there."

* * *

She did, and much to her delight, she found some books in the Kiamo Ko library that she had not read before. Fiyero was less happy with this development, since it meant she spent every spare minute poring over the books rather than spending time with him, but he tried to be supportive and help her where he could.

It wasn't quite enough, though. He'd hoped it would be, but when she looked at him and said, disappointment evident in her voice, "I don't think this is all we need," he knew.

"You're still going after Morrible's books," he concluded and she nodded.

"We have to." Biting her lip, she confessed, "You should know it's dangerous, Yero. If we get caught, it won't be pretty. I just want to warn you now so that if I don't come back here, you'll know why and you won't think I've abandoned you."

He was horrified and he stared at her, but her gaze didn't waver. They both knew the risks of what they were doing. Either of them could be killed at any time. He just hated it when that fact was thrown in their faces like this.

She bravely went on. "If I haven't come back here in about a week's time, I'll most likely have been… Well, you know." She obviously didn't want to say it, which was good, because he didn't want to hear it.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Thanks for telling me."

She moved over to him and raised her hand to caress his face. "Nothing might happen," she said consolingly. "I mean… Maybe we'll succeed, and we'll be fine."

He nodded. "Yeah," he agreed half-heartedly. "Maybe."

She dropped her hand. Neither of them spoke for a moment. He knew she was looking at him, but he avoided her gaze, instead staring at the books still lying open on the table. Why did she have to bring it up? He knew she was only trying to warn him, but he hated the thought of her captured – or worse. No matter how hard he tried not to imagine all the terrible things Morrible could do to Elphaba if she discovered her and Glinda's deceit, he couldn't help it.

"Yero," she whispered. "It doesn't matter, don't you see? If it doesn't happen now, it will happen in a week's time, or a month's, or a year's. I always knew I wouldn't have long. I've been living on borrowed time ever since I first decided to help the rebels instead of killing them."

He nodded again, but he still didn't look at her. When she tried to catch his gaze, he sighed and she pulled back her shoulders.

"Fiyero," she said, sternly now. "Listen to me. You can't make this into more than it really is. We barely know each other. We've spent some time together and that was nice, but we were never going to get married and live happily ever after – surely you realise that, too? You can't allow yourself to care about me too much. It will only hurt later on."

Now he looked up at her. "As if that's so easy!" He cocked his head a little to the side. "Are you saying you don't care about me?" he demanded. "Be honest."

"No," she said. "I do. Of course I do. But –"

"How much?" he interrupted. "As an acquaintance? A friend? Just someone to have fun with while you can? How much do you care about me?"

She faltered. Then she lowered her gaze and admitted, her voice betraying her irritation, "More than I'd like. Okay? Too much, probably. I tried not to, though."

"I didn't," he said. "Because I knew it would be of no use, anyway, and also because I didn't want to. I want to feel everything I can, while I still can, and I told you – I love you. That's how much _I_ care. And I can pretend it won't hurt me to watch you get caught by Morrible, never to return here, but I won't, because we both know it's not true. I don't want to lose you, Fae."

She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again, looking away.

He reached for her hand and when she didn't pull away, he threaded their fingers together. "I know you're right," he said. "I know we don't know one another through and through, but I think we've learnt a lot about each other by now nonetheless. In any case, there's so much more about you I want to know."

"You won't get the chance to find out everything you want to know, Fiyero," she said quietly. "Stop dreaming. Wishing only wounds the heart. I have to do this, and I _will_ do this. If I can somehow stop Morrible, even if I die doing it, I have to try. It's worth it. All of Oz is trapped by her – not just us. I can't be selfish."

He hung his head. "I know. Just try to be careful, please?"

"I always am." She kissed his cheek. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that I don't care about you. It's just that there are more important things than that, even if we don't want there to be, and… and I don't want to see you get hurt, either. Physically _or_ emotionally."

"I'll live," he said wryly. "Probably."

She gave him a fleeting smile. "You'd better."

"You'll tell me if you make any definite decisions on this, right?" he asked. "I mean… Once you start planning something…"

"If we come up with an actual plan and an idea of when to carry it out, I'll let you know if I can," she promised.

"Good." He looked down at the books in front of them. "Are you done reading spell books and talking to me about serious things now?" he asked and she blinked.

"Um… Yes," she said slowly. "Why?"

He gave her a cheeky grin and cupped her face with one hand, drawing her closer. "Because then we can spend the rest of the day doing this," he said and he pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

Once, when they were lying in Fiyero's bed together, he drew her to him with an arm around her waist and let his lips wander across her neck. She smiled, already half-asleep, and that gave him the courage to allow his fingers to brush against her hip, then her upper leg…

It was as if he had suddenly produced a knife and attempted to murder her. She sprang away from him, so violently she crashed off the bed and onto the floor, and he could only gape for a few moments.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to… um… sorry."

She was obviously embarrassed, but just before she shook her hair in front of her face, he could see something else in those dark eyes of hers. Terror. She wasn't just startled – she was terrified, and he suddenly had a suspicion as to why that was.

They'd never done anything more than kissing. Not that he didn't want to, but she had never attempted to cross that line and it hadn't felt right for him to do it – not in the least because he was afraid of what it might do to _him_ , since he already began to change every time they so much as kissed. Even when she spent the night, she always resolutely stayed on her own side of the bed. Sometimes she allowed him to hold her, but never more than that.

He was fine with that. He'd thought she was just shy. With her background, and what she'd told him about her first and only kiss with Gazilon, that fellow rebel of hers, he didn't make himself any illusions about the things she had and had not done. She was mature in every other respect, but he was fairly certain she'd never done anything more than kiss that rebel man.

Now, however, he was not so sure anymore.

"Who was it?" he demanded, feeling himself beginning to shift even as he tried to stop it. "Elphaba, tell me."

She shook her head, pushing herself back to her feet, but he could tell that she was shaking. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said airily. He wasn't fooled, though. He heard the tremor in her voice and he still saw that fear in her eyes, even as she climbed back into the bed and turned her back on him, wrapping her wings around herself protectively – although if she was trying to protect herself from him or from the ghosts from her past, he didn't know. "Good night, Fiyero."

"Elphaba," he said softly. She stiffened, but didn't move otherwise, and he closed his eyes for a moment. It was always hard for him to calm himself down enough to change back into the man he knew he was, but he didn't want to frighten her further. "Fae, please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… Please tell me what happened."

"Nothing happened. You just startled me, that's all."

He pressed on. "Was it another rebel? A Gale Force soldier? Or did it happen later, when you were already working for Morrible?"

He caught the way her muscles clenched at that name, but he didn't understand. "Morrible?" he asked dumbly. "But…"

"I told you she can get into my head and control my actions, didn't I?" she snapped at him without so much as turning around. "I told you she did everything she could to break me, _didn't I_? There are many things a person can do to another when one can control people's minds, Fiyero. What I told you about Gazilon being the only other man I've ever kissed? That wasn't strictly true, but I was only counting the men I've kissed – or done anything else with – out of my own free will. Are you happy now?"

He wasn't. In fact, he was flabbergasted. "She had you raped?!" he asked incredulously, instantly feeling guilty when she visibly flinched at the word. "I'm sorry, Fae, but…"

"There were plenty of Gale Force soldiers in her service who wouldn't mind helping her torture the green girl," she said bitterly. "Morrible thought it might make me more cooperative. I'd have fought her, and those men, but, well, what can you do when an evil sorceress is invading your mind and controlling your actions, right? I couldn't even scream. Is that what you wanted to hear? I don't want to talk about it, Fiyero. Leave me alone."

He knew he'd shifted fully by now and he also knew he couldn't change himself back if he wanted to. There mere thought of Morrible doing _that_ to her – to anyone, but especially to her – made his blood boil.

This wasn't about Morrible, though, he realised as he looked at the back of the young witch beside him, still wrapped up in the dark grey feathers of her wings. He felt the change reverse slightly, his muscles shrinking and the hair on his body retreating a little. This wasn't about Morrible at all; it was about Elphaba. Feeling sick, he suddenly wondered what else Morrible had done to her to 'break her', as Elphaba herself called it. Somehow, he didn't think he wanted to know.

Could it be more awful than the things he already did know about, though? Forcing her to murder innocent people was incredibly horrid, but this was just as bad. He couldn't even imagine everything she'd endured.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Elphaba."

She didn't respond.

He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, but he didn't think she'd react well to his touch at the moment. Instead, he tried again. "Fae? Please talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," she muttered. "Go to sleep, Fiyero."

She didn't say anything else and he, unsure of what to do, just watched her for a long time before finally sinking into a restless sleep himself.

* * *

 **Can you drop me a review to tell me what you think? I've been getting less and less reviews and I'm not sure if that's because you stopped reading or because you're just too busy to review/don't feel like reviewing every chapter (which I could also understand).**


	9. Little Talks

**Thank you guys so much!**

 **The Augurey/Elphaba-WWW - of course I remember you! (Come on - I don't forget my Frex Hunters that easily. :P) Awesome to have you back! :D**

 **Satilliteheart: Wish granted. :)**

* * *

 **Little Talks**

Upon arriving in the Emerald City, Elphaba instantly went to the palace and into the throne room, curtseying before Morrible, the way she always did.

The hag raised her eyebrows. "I was wondering when you'd come," she said. "I was starting to think I'd have to call for you again."

"I was enjoying the peace and quiet," said Elphaba and Morrible chortled.

"I hope you enjoyed it very thoroughly, Miss Elphaba, for my next assignment for you is a bit of a tricky one," she said. She regarded the young witch closely. "Something's different about you," she observed.

Elphaba swore her heart stopped for a moment. Did Morrible know? But how? Maybe she'd seen Elphaba flying off once and she got suspicious. Maybe she'd noticed the green girl was away from the City a lot… She'd been so careful, but Morrible had ways of knowing things that went above and beyond what Elphaba could control.

Morrible was still studying the dark-haired witch before her and Elphaba forced herself to keep her expression neutral. Eventually, the older woman shook her head.

"I can't put my finger on what it is," she mused. "It's something I can feel about you, I think. I used to be able to feel the fight you were putting up every time you came here. Now that feeling is much less prominent." She cocked her head to the side. "Either you've found a hobby on the side that makes you very happy…"

Elphaba was very, very careful not to let herself give anything away, her face still blank.

"…or you're becoming less reluctant to carry out the tasks I give you." Morrible smiled slightly. "Have you finally understood that it's easier to accept your life like this, dearie? That's my Huntress. Someday, you might actually learn to enjoy it."

Elphaba couldn't keep herself from snarling in disgust at that. "Never!"

"You might surprise yourself." Morrible cocked an eyebrow at her. "It's not that, then? Hmm. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were in love." Her eyes glittered and Elphaba suddenly understood that the hag had known this all along. She just liked to play games.

Still, Elphaba could play, too. She just had to figure out how much Morrible knew.

"There is no such thing as love," she said, with as much contempt in her voice as she could muster, but she could tell she didn't fool Morrible for a clock-tick.

"Oh, yes, there is," the old woman said smugly. "And you have found it. The only question is with whom." She tapped a finger against her cheek. "Is he a Gale Force guard or just someone you met in the City?"

Elphaba clenched her jaw, pretending to be annoyed, but in reality she was just relieved that Morrible didn't know about Fiyero. "With all due respect, Madame, I do not think this is any of your business."

Morrible cackled. "I've hit a nerve, haven't I? Careful with your sharp tongue, dearie. You're still speaking to the second-most powerful person in Oz here."

Elphaba couldn't hold back a snort at that. Luckily, Morrible didn't seem to mind; her grin only widened.

"You're right," she said. "I am the most powerful person in Oz, aren't I? King Oscar is hardly ever even seen anymore. The poor man – so fragile and with so many health problems. Would you believe he has barely spent more than an hour per day out of his bed in the past decade?"

Elphaba had no trouble at all believing that, knowing Morrible was the one making – and keeping – the king sick so she could rule in his stead. This time, though, she was wise enough to keep her mouth shut.

"In any case," Morrible returned to the topic at hand, "I don't want you to put aside your duties in favour of your man, and trust me when I say that I _will_ find out who he is and I _will_ use him against you in any way I can if you defy me. Is that understood?"

Elphaba raised her chin. "Yes, Madame." She wouldn't give Morrible any trouble. Not on the outside, anyway. If she managed to lay low, Morrible would have no reason to go digging into the identity of Elphaba's newly-found love interest.

The old hag, still smirking, handed the green girl a folded piece of paper with the information about her target on it and waved her away. "Off you go, dearie, and don't take too long."

Elphaba curtseyed, then untucked her wings and shot out of the window. As she flew, she pondered Morrible's words.

She didn't think the old hag knew anything about Fiyero still being alive, or about where Elphaba had been disappearing off to – or that she'd been disappearing at all. Morrible tended to only keep an eye on people when she needed them; when she didn't need Elphaba, she didn't much care about what the green girl did, as long as she'd be back when Morrible had need of her again.

She'd have to be very careful, though. If the change in her behaviour was that obvious, she had to figure out a way to keep that in check. Perhaps Glinda could help her spread a rumour about her and one of the Gale Force guards, or an inhabitant of the City, so Morrible wouldn't get suspicious and start digging after all.

She sighed, moving herself to a more horizontal position and speeding up, beating her wings as hard as she could. She shivered. It was cold and above her, clouds were gathering once again, darkening the sky. It would probably start raining soon. Ever since Morrible had taken power, it had been raining a lot. The woman seemed to like rain, for some reason. She hoped she'd reach her destination before the rain started coming down or she'd have trouble flying again.

She hadn't talked to Fiyero that morning. She'd woken up early and slipped away in the dark before he'd even opened his eyes. She felt a little guilty about that, but she hadn't wanted to face him after what happened last night. She hated anyone seeing her weak and vulnerable. She hadn't wanted him to know at all, but when he'd kept pushing, she'd lost her temper and blurted it all out, anyway. Now he'd only pity her and she hated being pitied.

Besides, it had happened and she couldn't change that, so she might as well push it away and not think about it anymore, right? Just like she tried not to think about Gazilon's murder, or her father and sister's execution, or the people she had killed herself. They popped up in her mind, or in her dreams, on a regular basis, but she usually managed to keep any thoughts of them at bay by focusing on different things. Fiyero bringing this up was like an old wound being torn open again. He'd want to talk about it and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

She carried out her assignment the way she always did and after sending her target on his way to the border, she reported to Morrible. She almost didn't go to Kiamo Ko that night, but she figured she'd have to face Fiyero again sooner or later, anyway, so she might as well get it over with.

When she arrived at the castle, he wasn't moping around, as she'd half expected. Instead, he was reading in his bedroom, which made her stop in her tracks.

He looked up from his book and smiled. "Hey."

No trace of pity. At least that was something. She approached cautiously, glancing at the book on the desk in front of him. "What are you reading?"

"Spell books," he said. He shrugged. "I figured I might as well make myself useful and try to help you and Glinda."

She could kiss him for that, but she didn't, because there was still a bit of an awkward air between them. Still, it reminded her of why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place. Regardless of what he thought of himself, he did have a huge heart. He was so kind and thoughtful while she was so harsh and selfish most of the time.

"Let me show you something," he said, putting aside the book and rising to his feet. He rummaged around in a corner of the room and pulled out the object in question. "Close your eyes."

She glared at him, but then did as she was told. He placed the painted canvas in front of her on the bed and said, "Now open."

She opened her eyes and her jaw dropped. "Fiyero!"

He grinned at her expectantly. "Do you like it?"

It was a painting, naturally – she'd guessed that much – but it was a painting of her. A good one, too. In it, she was flying, her hair being whipped back by the wind as she held on to her witch hat with one hand. Her wings were spread; in the painting, they were glistening with rain and she shifted them a little, half expecting them to feel as soaked as they looked in Fiyero's picture. He'd painted her against a gorgeous deep blue sky filled with stars, with the tops of the trees from the forest at the bottom and a full moon in the upper right corner. It was beautiful.

"When did you make this?" she asked in awe and he shrugged modestly.

"I've been working on it for a while, but I finished it today," he said. "I was bored and I couldn't stop thinking of you."

She blushed at that, but she pretended nothing was wrong as she studied his work. "It's wonderful."

He beamed at her. Then he sobered, his face growing serious, and she knew he was going to talk about it.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About last night."

She shook her head. "It's fine."

"It's not, though." He took a breath. "I shouldn't have pushed you. You made it very clear that you didn't want to talk about it and I should have respected that, so I'm sorry."

She was mildly amazed at that. She'd expected him to apologise for attempting to touch her in the first place and she would hate that, because he hadn't done anything wrong and her reaction had been extreme. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't have known.

About this, though, he was right – he shouldn't have pushed her.

"All right," she said. "Thank you."

He met her gaze solemnly. "If you do want to talk about it, though," he said, "I'm here. You know that, right?"

She couldn't help but smile at the look in his eyes. "I know."

"So are we good?" he asked hopefully and she laughed.

"We're good," she confirmed and he grinned, clearly relieved.

"Good."

She rolled her eyes, then squeaked when he suddenly pulled her to him and kissed her.

* * *

Elphaba was in the throne room of the Emerald City palace, Morrible reclining on the throne with a smug smile on her face. "Go ahead, gentlemen," she said, chuckling as two Gale Force soldiers grabbed Elphaba and dragged her off to a corner. Morrible's cackles echoed in her ears even as they put their hands on her, ripping off her dress. They pressed her down to the floor so hard her wings ached under the pressure. She tried to fight them, but her muscles refused to move; and when she tried to scream, no sound came out of her throat.

Then she was outside and she could see her sister, sitting in her wheelchair on the Emerald City square for all to see. Nessa was trembling and crying, quietly begging for mercy, but Morrible just smirked as she said calmly, "Fire."

"Elphie!" Glinda cried and suddenly it was her on that square, their eyes meeting right before the blonde girl was pierced by several bullets at once. This time, Elphaba did scream; but even through her own screams, she could hear her best friend's voice echo inside her head. "Elphaba," Glinda whispered. "Elphaba."

"Elphaba." A hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. "Elphie? Are you awake?"

Elphaba forced her eyes open, only to look into Glinda's face. "Glin?" she asked, still half-asleep and confused, before realising where she was and shooting up into a sitting position. "Glinda! What are you _doing_ here?!"

The noise had woken Fiyero up as well and the moment he spotted a stranger in his room, out of instinctual panic, he shifted and growled. Glinda shrieked, recoiling, but Elphaba placed a hand on the Vinkun's arm.

"It's all right," she said. "This is Glinda, my best friend. Glin, this is Fiyero."

Glinda only stared at him. "He, um… He doesn't… bite, does he?"

Elphaba rolled her eyes. "He's a human being," she reminded her friend. "He was cursed. It's not his fault. Really, Yero, it's okay," she said to him, noticing him slowly beginning to change back until he was fully human again.

"Sorry," he muttered, clearly embarrassed, but she just squeezed his hand.

"Glin," she said, returning her attention to the blonde. "What in Oz are you doing here? If Morrible saw you –"

"She didn't," said Glinda. "But I had to find someplace safe to put this and I thought Kiamo Ko would be the best option… Unless you don't want me to leave it here, then I can take it with me, but, well…"

Elphaba sat up straighter. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

Glinda pulled something out of the satchel she'd brought with her. "This," she said, showing it to Elphaba.

Instantly, the green girl gasped and Fiyero hissed, scrambling back again. Elphaba's head whipped around. "What's wrong?"

"That," he growled, having shifted once again. "That's the book she took the spell from."

"The Grimmerie," said Elphaba, shaking her head. "Sweet Oz." She understood his reaction, especially if Morrible had used a spell from the Grimmerie to curse Fiyero, but the book in itself wasn't evil. It was just a powerful spell book. The only other time she'd seen it was when Morrible had allowed her to cast the levitation spell from it that gave her her wings. "Glin, how in Oz did you get this?"

The blonde beamed, although she still seemed wary of Fiyero. Elphaba couldn't really blame her. Despite the fact that she'd always insist he wasn't a monster, she could understand why people would be frightened of him, especially if they had never seen him before.

"One clock-tick," Elphaba said to her friend before turning to Fiyero again, who was still looking panicked. "Yero? Hey." She cradled his face between her hands, making him look at her. "Calm down," she said softly. "The book can't hurt you. It's just a book. Morrible isn't here. It's all right."

He looked at her helplessly and she tried to give him an encouraging smile, waiting until he changed back again. He averted his gaze the way he always did when he changed and he felt ashamed of himself because of it, but she just kissed his lips briefly. "There you go," she murmured.

She turned to face Glinda, but kept her hand over Fiyero's. "Okay, Glin. Tell me how you got this."

"I stole it," the blonde witch said proudly. "I know it wasn't part of our plan, Elphie, but… well, the opportunity arose and I couldn't let it pass by. Morrible was out for the day and I sneaked over to her offices, hoping to find something, and I did. It took me a while, and I couldn't find any of her other spell books, but I knew she'd used the Grimmerie this morning and it was still there in her office, hidden, but not very well. She almost never uses the Grimmerie, anyway – this morning was an exception – so she probably won't miss it anytime soon."

"What about her protection spells?" Elphaba demanded and Glinda's eyes shone.

"That's the best part," she said. "I asked Popsicle for help a while ago, as I told you I would, to find a way past Morrible's security; and he found a spell that allows me to go undetected in any way, even by magic, for a short period of time – about four or five minutes. I tested it in my room a couple of times beforehand. It was long enough."

Elphaba spluttered. "What if that spell hadn't worked? What if she'd come back? You didn't even tell me you had that spell!"

"I hardly ever see you anymore," Glinda pointed out meaningfully, glancing at Fiyero for a moment. "I wasn't sure at first if it would really work, but I figured I had to try. If she calls me out on having entered her office, I'll just make something up about wanting to borrow a book from her, I don't know. I'm a public figure. She can't dispose of me as easily as she could of you, so I thought it'd be better if I took the risk, rather than you."

Elphaba gingerly touched the cover of the ancient magic book and then wrapped her arms around Glinda in a hug. "Glin, you are amazing," she declared.

Glinda giggled. "I know."

The dark-haired witch let go of her friend. "You still shouldn't have done it," she said sternly and Glinda cast her eyes heavenward.

"Yes, Mumsie."

Elphaba stuck out her tongue. "You should go back," she said. "Morrible can't find out you're gone or it will be much too suspicious. I'll go through the Grimmerie and see if I can find anything that could help us in any way." She cast a quick glance in Fiyero's direction, barely noticeable; but Glinda, who had known her for three years, did notice.

"Elphie," she said gently. "You know spells from the Grimmerie are irreversible, don't you?"

Elphaba looked at her. "I do," she admitted. "But maybe there's another spell in there that could be cast over the first one." Of course she wished she could get rid of Fiyero's curse and though she knew how unlikely it was that she would be able to do so with the help of the Grimmerie – or at all, really – that didn't mean she couldn't try.

Glinda nodded. "You take your time to go through it," she said. "I'll return to the City and I'll see you there in a few days at most." She looked at Fiyero. "It was nice to meet you."

He smiled wryly. "No, it wasn't. I'm sorry I scared you."

"That's all right," the blonde waved him away. "And it _was_ nice to meet the person who managed to make Elphie smile again." She squeezed Elphaba's arm. "Just be careful. Both of you."

She left the room in a flurry of skirts and Elphaba called after her, "How did you even get here?"

"Why, by bubble, of course!" came the cheerful reply and the green girl rolled her eyes with a fond smile.

"Silly girl."

Fiyero was watching her hopefully. "Does this mean you don't have to go to steal Morrible's other spell books anymore?"

She sighed. "Maybe," she said. "It depends on the spells I find in the Grimmerie." She rubbed her face. "Oz, I'm tired. I feel like I haven't slept at all."

"Then go back to sleep," Fiyero urged her, but she shook her head.

"I can't," she said apologetically. "I have to make a start on going through the Grimmerie and then I'll have to go back to Morrible, before she starts suspecting something." She pulled the thick book to her and opened it, inhaling its dusty smell. She'd always loved the smell of old books. "What funny writing," she murmured.

"Funny?" Fiyero squinted at it. "Try 'unreadable'. Is that even a language?"

Elphaba shrugged. "I suppose. I don't understand what it says, either, but somehow it makes sense. It's hard to explain. I know Glinda can't read it – she tried to, when Morrible first showed her the book a couple of years ago, but she can't decipher it. I don't know why I can read it and she can't, but I'll use it to my advantage." She squinted at the pages and Fiyero could tell it would be of no use to bother her again. Sighing, he got to his feet to make them both something to eat.

* * *

 **Yep, they're playing a dangerous game. Any guesses on how many more chapters it'll take for Morrible to catch on? *smirk* (I'll give you a hint: not that many.)**


	10. Magic to Do

**Thanks again. You guys are wonderful. :)**

 **Wanli8970: Not intentionally! I haven't even seen that musical (yet).**

 **Vinkunwildflowerqueen: To be honest, I always did find her a bit Umbridge-like, so I guess I write her a little that way, haha.**

* * *

 **Magic to Do**

She spent the next couple of hours poring over the spell book, not even touching the food he had set down for her. He watched her until he finally had enough. "Elphaba, will you talk to me?" he demanded.

She finally looked up from the Grimmerie, clearly disturbed. "What? About what?"

"I don't know," he said. "Anything. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I'm fine." She returned to her reading.

He sighed. "You haven't even touched your food, Fae. Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk," she said, gritting her teeth. "I want to find a spell to stop – oh!"

"What?"

"This is it!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining. "Well, not _it_ ," she amended, "but it's certainly a step in the right direction. It's a spell to shield one's mind!"

Even he could see that was indeed a step in the right direction. "If she can't control you," he said slowly, "then you could take her, couldn't you?"

She sighed heavily. "No, Fiyero," she said in a tone that suggested he was being incredibly dense. "Of course I can't. I told you how much better she is at magic than I am." She shook her head. "We'll need more, but it's a start."

He knew that meant she probably had to steal more spell books, putting herself in danger in the process after all, and for what? What did she and Glinda think they would find? "Can't you just stick a knife in her back?" he wondered aloud.

She gave him a look and he shrugged. "Yes, well, why do you need magic? Why not do it the old-fashioned way? Use this spell to shield your mind, and then the next time you see her…" He trailed off when he saw her shaking her head.

"She's much too smart for that," she explained. "She's got magical protection in place, not to mention her actual guards. I could never get close enough to her to kill her 'the old-fashioned way', as you call it, let alone do so and also escape." She tapped the book. "I need this, and any other books I can get my hands on, to find a way around the spells that protect her. I explained this to you already, Fiyero. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to bring her down." Her eyes flashed and he understood. After what that old hag had done to her…

At the same time, though, he was grateful that she kept looking for a safer way. Even if the means to find such a way were dangerous, he was glad she was trying to find a way that wouldn't get her killed alongside Morrible.

She looked at him. "Besides," she said, her voice softer now, "there might be a spell in one of these books that could help me… well, help you."

He sat up straighter. "Wait. What?" he asked, unable to keep a hopeful note out of his voice. "Really?"

"Don't get your hopes up," she said, her voice almost pleading. "I don't know for sure if there is any spell that can reverse or undo the one she originally cast on you, and I don't want you to be disappointed if I don't succeed…"

Sighing, he moved closer to her to draw her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I could never be disappointed in you, sweetheart," he said, and he meant it. "But I'd love for you to try."

He knew she was right every time she said their relationship couldn't last, but in his mind, he had already planned out their entire future together – marriage, children, a home of their own in a free Oz or maybe in a different country... The only problem – well, the most important problem, in his mind – consistently popping up was him. His curse. Because how could he ever live among other people if he could turn into a beast at any given moment? What if his children saw him like that and they became terrified of their own father?

Scratch that – could he even _have_ children with Elphaba? If kissing her made him change already, then what would more do? Even assuming she'd eventually process the trauma Morrible and her guards had inflicted on her and allow him to touch her, _he_ would be a huge problem. If they tried to make love and he lost his head, could he lose control? It had happened before. Never because he was excited in a good way – always because he was either extremely scared or extremely angry, or because Morrible had manipulated him into shifting – but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. If he lost control, anything could happen. He'd never dared to try to find out about the things he'd done during such spells, but he was fairly certain, from his nightmares afterwards, that it wasn't pretty. Elphaba may have some murders on her conscience that she didn't voluntarily commit, but he knew the same could be said for him.

He confessed that to her, but she just nodded. "I know."

He blinked. "You know I killed people?"

"You told me," she reminded him. "In the beginning, when I asked you why she cursed you. You told me she kept you to execute and scare people. Besides, given how scared you always are of losing control, I figured that had happened before and I can imagine what must have happened then." The corner of her mouth twitched. "I mean, I of all people know what it's like to have no control over your own body."

He nodded, understanding, and smoothed her hair away from her face before planting a kiss on her lips. "If you found a way to undo the curse, that would be wonderful," he told her honestly. "If you don't, though, I won't blame you. I promise."

She leaned into him, but only for a moment before she pulled away again. "I have to go," she said. "I need to see Morrible to keep her from getting suspicious and I need to cast this spell on myself – not to mention Glinda and I need to plan on how to get our hands on those other spell books."

He nodded again and pulled her back for a kiss. He didn't want her to go, but he wouldn't say that. He knew she had to. He just hoped, as always, that she'd be okay and he'd see her again.

* * *

She'd been afraid that Morrible had noticed the Grimmerie missing by now, or she'd be otherwise suspicious, but she wasn't. She just acted the way she always did around Elphaba, taunting her a little before giving her her next assignment and sending her off.

The green girl had cast the spell by now that was supposed to protect her from Morrible's mind-control. Unfortunately, she realised belatedly that she had no way of testing whether or not it worked. She made a mental note of visiting Glinda after returning from her assignment to see if the blonde could help her.

"Perhaps," Glinda said slowly, "there's also a spell in the Grimmerie that _allows_ mind-control. If there is, I could test it out on you."

Elphaba exhaled. "That sounds tricky. Especially since you'd have to return to Kiamo Ko again, because there's no way I can bring the Grimmerie here."

Glinda nodded. "I'll be there tomorrow evening," she said. "Make sure Fiyero doesn't eat me."

Her friend gave her a look and Glinda giggled. "I was joking, Elphie."

And so the two girls worked on a plan together. Fiyero sat watching them in interest as Glinda cast spells to attempt to control Elphaba and the green girl didn't budge at all, signalling the success of the initial mind-shielding spell. The two witches pored over their spell books several times, both together and separately. They discovered some very interesting magic, but nothing that could really help them.

"What about that invisibility spell you used to steal the Grimmerie?" Elphaba demanded, but Glinda shook her head.

"It only works for a couple of minutes," she said. "That was enough to sneak in and search quickly, but I was lucky that Morrible hadn't hidden the Grimmerie well after using it or I wouldn't have had enough time to find it. Her quarters are big and we have no idea where she keeps the books."

Elphaba nodded, understanding. They couldn't take the risk. If Morrible's protection spells detected them, they'd be dead. Everything they did was risky, some things more than others, and they needed to be as careful as they could be. They needed a different plan, but what?

Fiyero spoke up thoughtfully. "What if you write a spell yourself, based on the spells you found in the book?"

Both girls raised their heads to look at him in surprise.

He shifted, uncomfortable under their stares. "What? Did I say something stupid?"

"No," said Elphaba, letting out an incredulous laugh. She got to her feet and moved over to him, taking his face between her hands and kissing him, quite enthusiastically. "You said something very smart."

Glinda giggled. "I guess he does have his uses," she said, a teasing undertone in her voice. "I mean, I already knew from you that he is a nice conversation partner and a great kisser and that he makes a good pillow, but he's smart, too!"

Elphaba appeared to be blushing a purplish colour all the way up to the roots of her hair, which was interesting and made Fiyero grin. "Glinda!" she hissed.

"I didn't think you'd girl-talk about me with your friends," Fiyero said, still grinning.

"Friend," Elphaba corrected him absently. She narrowed her eyes at him. "And I don't 'girl-talk'."

"She does," Glinda informed Fiyero. "Only when pushed very hard, that much is true, but I know how to get her to tell me these things."

"I'll work on a spell," Elphaba decided, ignoring the other two. "Glin, you go back and don't come here for a while. It's safer. I'll come find you if I need any help or if I manage to finish a spell so we can go over it together."

Glinda nodded, serious again. "All right." She hugged Elphaba and then Fiyero, too, to his mild surprise, before giving them both a small wave, collecting her things, and leaving in her bubble.

Fiyero came up to the green girl, placing his hands on her shoulders from behind and massaging them gently. "You okay?"

She took a deep breath. It was as if a weight had suddenly dropped from her shoulders. Finally, _finally_ , there was a light at the end of the tunnel – a solution that had a good chance of working. It was about time, after four years of torture under Morrible's command and even more years of hardship before that.

"Yeah," she said, smiling a little as she leaned into him, pulling her wings a bit to the side to give him better access to her shoulders. "I'm great, actually."

He dropped a kiss to her hair and she could hear his own smile in his voice as he said, "Good."

She allowed herself to relax, closing her eyes as he worked the tension from her shoulders and then put his arms around her with his chin resting on the top of her head, folding her own wings around her. "Fae?"

"Mmh?"

"I, um…" He hesitated, then asked, "Are you hungry?"

She was pretty sure that wasn't what he had originally been about to say, but she didn't call him out on it. "Not really," she said. "I'm tired, though."

He nodded. "Magic takes a lot out of you. You told me that before. Do you want to get some rest?"

"If you don't mind," she said and he smiled, letting go of her to turn her around and take her hand instead.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go to bed."

After that one night, she had expected him to start treating her like she was made of sugar. Thankfully, however, he hadn't. Whenever she stayed the night, he still always attempted to pull her closer. Sometimes she let him; sometimes she didn't. Either way, he always respected her boundaries and he didn't try to touch her again beyond what was already established as acceptable. She wasn't sure if she was grateful for that or not. She just felt so frustrated that she couldn't give him, or herself for that matter, anything more.

He drew her to him now, too, and she curled up against him, closing her eyes and allowing her wings to wrap around them both almost instinctively. His arm was around her waist, his fingers against her stomach, and she wondered if she would ever dare let him get any closer than that.

Apparently sensing her restlessness, he started humming a song she didn't recognise, and she tried to concentrate on the sound. Soon it allowed her to drift off to sleep, but it wasn't a very restful sleep. She dreamt of that day again, of the men in the throne room of the palace; and she dreamt of blood and death. She awoke with a sharp intake of breath, almost a gasp, and it took her several moments to shake off the dream and come back to reality. She was safe – for now, at least.

Fiyero was gently rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Fae?" he whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Just a dream." She hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, "Yero?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

She wondered when he had started calling her that, but she didn't say anything. She kind of liked it, even though it seemed a little juvenile. "I…" How could she say this without sounding like she was suggesting something she wasn't? She'd never been good at subtlety, though, so eventually she just blurted out, "I want you to touch me."

His hands stilled on her arms and she could sense his shock, so she quickly clarified, "Not like that! Just… More like that than we've been doing so far. You know?" She could tell that he didn't know exactly what she meant, so she huffed her breath out through her nose, frustrated with herself for being unable to explain what she meant. "You know what? Never mind."

"Don't say that," he murmured. "I think I understand. You want to try to work through it, step by step, right?"

"Step by very small step," she warned him and he chuckled, his breath warm against her neck.

"I know." He combed his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"No," she said honestly. "But I'm tired of being scared. It'll be one less fear for me to have to worry about. I just… I want to move on, and I want to see if I can. Move on, I mean." She was rambling a little, she knew, but somehow he seemed to get it, anyway.

He nuzzled her temple, pressing a kiss to her hair. "All right." He pulled away so he could look into her eyes. "Stop me whenever you want, okay? I don't want to hurt you and I don't want you to be afraid."

She nodded bravely and he caught her chin in his hand, kissing her softly at first, then slowly deepening the kiss. She responded easily, having gotten used to kissing him like that by now, and she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She knew he would stop the moment she said the word and she knew he wouldn't go too far. She just wanted to test her limits a little. She trusted him; perhaps she even loved him. If she was ever going to do this of her own free will with anyone, she knew, it would be him.

He was very careful and gentle with her, slowly rubbing his hands up and down her back for a while, over the nightshirt she had borrowed from him, feeling her folded wings before moving his hands down to her hips, then up her stomach. She tensed at that, but he didn't do anything more intimate; he just let his fingers dance along her lower ribs, causing her to have to break the kiss because she was ticklish and she couldn't help the giggles that escaped her. Horrified at the sound, she clapped a hand over her mouth, but he just grinned. He had changed a little again, the way he always did when they kissed like this, but she didn't mind.

"You giggled," he stated, sounding like a smug little kid who just caught his sibling doing something forbidden he could report to their parents.

She gave him her best glare. "That information is never to leave this room," she said sternly and he chuckled, pulling her back against him.

"Your secret is safe with me," he whispered into her ear, brushing his lips along her skin. She shivered a little and he moved his hands back, running them down her arms, caressing her back, then resting them on her hips again. She was wearing a pair of his pyjama trousers as well, so she didn't feel too exposed, but still she couldn't help but stiffen again when he ran one hand a little lower, along her thigh and her upper leg over the fabric.

"Is this okay?" he whispered, searching her face, but she nodded. She needed to learn to trust him. She knew he would never hurt her; even if they did go further than this one day, she knew it wouldn't be anything like what she had already experienced. She didn't want to be afraid of something that was supposed to be so good, especially with someone as wonderful as he was.

He didn't push her, idly brushing his fingers against her upper thigh but not doing anything more than that; and slowly, she relaxed a little. She didn't tense when his hands wandered up again and he ran them slowly over her wings, caressing them. She was surprised to find that that felt almost more intimate than anything else they'd ever done before and she felt a shiver run down her spine. He smiled, gently pulling her to lie with her back against his chest, and he let his lips wander to her neck, kissing the soft skin there. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes," she whispered. She half-turned to be able to look at him. "Thank you."

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then turned her around again, allowing her to nestle against him comfortably.

"I love you," she said quietly.

She felt his shock as if it were a tangible thing, but he just tightened his grip on her and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I've been hoping you'd feel that way for a while," he confessed. "I mean, I already told you how _I_ feel, but I just… didn't want to get my hopes up when I wasn't sure how _you_ felt. Especially after what you said a while ago, about not caring too much…"

She chuckled weakly. "I didn't really want to admit it, either, but then I figured that saying it isn't going to make it any more real than not saying it," she said logically.

He smiled. "You're right." He breathed in her scent and closed his eyes, holding her to him. "I love you, too," he whispered into her ear, his heart soaring at the sight of the small smile that danced around her lips as she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

* * *

Elphaba's next assignment was a rebel girl in Munchkinland and so she flew for a couple of hours and then landed at the edge of a forest in the eastern province. She marched over to the small cottage that was her destination and knocked on the door. It was opened by the girl herself – a skinny thing, nearly as tall as Elphaba, but clearly younger. She looked vaguely familiar, even though Elphaba was almost entirely sure she had never seen the girl before. The dark-haired witch estimated her at about sixteen, the same age the green girl had been when she'd joined the rebels. This girl, however, had dark blonde hair tied back in a messy bun, fair skin, and grey eyes that widened when she saw Elphaba.

"The Huntress," she whispered and her shoulders drooped. She stepped back into the cottage, allowing Elphaba to come inside. "I was wondering how long it would be before you'd come for me." She took a deep breath and pulled her shoulders back again, hardening herself, and she closed the door behind Elphaba and turned around to face her. "All right, then. Please, just… do me a favour and make it quick."

It pained Elphaba that this was how the people saw her – as Morrible most renowned killer. She drew her wings behind her and pulled down the hood of her cloak. "I'm not going to kill you."

The girl stared at her.

"I've been sent to kill you," Elphaba amended, "but I'm not going to. I know what you've heard about me and it's not entirely wrong, but it's not completely right, either." She met the girl's gaze. "I was once a rebel myself, you know," she said. "In a way, I still am."

The girl blinked, very slowly. "You… You're not going to kill me?"

Elphaba shook her head. "I'm going to pretend to kill you and help you escape instead," she told the girl, whose face suddenly lit up. Then, completely out of the blue, she threw her arms around Elphaba.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed jubilantly. "I couldn't believe it when I heard you'd gone over to Morrible's side, did you know that? After… well, after your identity was discovered, and after what happened to your father and sister… we all knew you were one of us. Fae, the green girl. When you started working for Morrible instead, I just couldn't _believe_ it. You were my idol before, I wanted to be like you, and then you betrayed us… but you didn't, did you? You only pretended to!"

Elphaba was, to put it mildly, quite startled by this girl's behaviour. "I… I didn't plan to," she admitted, carefully prying the girl's arms from around her waist and taking a step back. "I didn't have much choice. And regardless, that doesn't matter now."

The girl, however, was not perturbed. "Your real name is Elphaba, right?" When Elphaba nodded, the girl smiled. "On behalf of all of us, every rebel in Oz, Elphaba… Thank you for saving so many of us."

"You're… welcome." Elphaba, a little bewildered and unsure of how to respond, simply continued her explanation. "You can't pack anything; it would look suspicious if your things disappeared. You'll have to wait until nightfall and then you'll have to slip away. I can help you, but you can't tell anyone you're leaving and you'll have to get out of Oz altogether, all right?"

The girl nodded. "I understand. There's no-one I would tell, anyway," she said quietly, glancing away. "Everyone I would care to tell is dead."

Elphaba could see the flash of pain in the girl's eyes and her heart went out to her. She knew what it was like to not have anyone left. Many people in Oz knew that, by now. It only strengthened her resolve to stop Morrible.

"Elphaba, how did you get wings?" she changed the subject, circling Elphaba and studying the dark grey feathers in interest. "You weren't born with them, were you? No-one ever mentioned them when they talked about when you were still a rebel…"

Elphaba shook her head. "That was Morrible," she said shortly. "As were so many other things. Come on, we should go."

"Can I really not bring anything at all?" the girl asked. "No-one would notice a photograph disappearing, right?" She moved over to the bed in the corner of the single room and pulled something from underneath the pillow, holding it close to her chest. "It's all I have left of my family," she explained, apologetic and hopeful at the same time.

Elphaba stared at the girl and then at the frame she was clutching to her chest. Even though she couldn't see the photograph inside, she knew. For the second time in the space of only a month or two, Elphaba was hit with a sudden realisation of where she had seen the person in front of her before.


	11. A Surprise

**So you guys seem to be torn between "Oh, yay, this must be Fiyero's sister!" and "This must be a spy for Morrible. LOOK OUT, ELPHABA." You'll see in this chapter. :)**

 **Vinkunwildflowerqueen: Says the girl who ended chapters with Fiyero having been shot, and Elphaba bleeding on the bathroom floor, and Elphaba in a coma, just to name a few. (Again. No, I will never let this go, haha.)**

* * *

 **A Surprise**

Oh, she was in trouble.

"That photograph," Elphaba said, struggling to keep her voice even despite the fact that her heart was pounding in her throat. If she was right, taking the course of action she wanted to take would make things immensely more complicated… but she already knew she had no choice. If this girl really was the person Elphaba suspected her to be, she couldn't do anything else. "Can I see it?"

The girl hesitated, then turned it around for Elphaba to see. The dark-haired witch only needed to get a glimpse at it before seeing her suspicions confirmed and she nodded.

"What's your name?" she asked, sounding much calmer than she felt. "Aora or Myah?"

"Myah," the girl answered, her brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know that?"

Elphaba didn't reply. "That makes sense," she muttered to herself, pacing up and down. Fiyero had seen Aora die, after all, but he'd only assumed that Myah was dead as well. He had told her about the murder of his family at some point and she remembered him confessing to her how guilty he'd felt that he'd been knocked out, so Myah had had to die alone. She'd just never expected that the girl had actually never died at all.

Elphaba sighed, realising she was going to be in for much more trouble now than she'd already been in before coming here. If Morrible ever found out about _this_ , she wouldn't just punish Elphaba; both Fiyero and his sister would be dragged into it as well. It was an enormous risk, but the alternative – not telling either Myah or Fiyero that their sibling was still alive – was simply not an option.

"Hello?" Myah asked shrilly, waving an arm at the young witch. "What are you saying? You're scaring me, Elphaba."

Elphaba stopped pacing and looked at the younger girl. "You're Fiyero's sister," she stated.

Myah's eyes widened again. "I am," she said slowly. "Why would you say that?"

"Because I know him," the green girl answered. "Only he thinks you died along with the rest of your family."

Myah's eyes widened even further. "He's _alive_?" she demanded and Elphaba could hear the wild hope in her voice. "Fiyero's alive?"

Elphaba nodded. "He didn't get out of Southstairs unscathed," she said, deciding not to go into Fiyero's predicament right now, "but yes, he's alive. He's been staying at Kiamo Ko."

"Kiamo Ko…" Myah brought a shaking hand up to her mouth and shook her head. "Oh, Yero…" Then she started to sob.

Elphaba moved closer to her, patting her back a little awkwardly. "I can take you to him," she offered and the other girl's head snapped up. "It's going to be risky and incredibly dangerous," she warned her, "but I could find a way to get you there, if you want me to. So you can see him."

"Please," Myah cried, hugging Elphaba again – much to the latter's discomfort. "Is he… Is he all right?"

Elphaba hesitated – just a fraction of a clock-tick, but Myah caught it. "He's not, is he?" she whispered. "What has she done to him?"

Elphaba sighed, then told Myah all she knew about Fiyero – that he'd been in Southstairs for almost two and a half years in total, enchanted at some point by Madame Morrible; that he'd escaped her after a time and fled to Kiamo Ko, where he'd been living ever since. She also explained how she herself had met Fiyero in Southstairs and how she had found him again in the castle a while ago.

Myah clenched her fists, her grey eyes hard and blazing even brighter than before. "I will kill that awful witch," she swore and Elphaba couldn't really argue with that.

"Listen to me," said Elphaba. "I can fly you to the Vinkus, but I'm not going to take you to Kiamo Ko right away. We need to be very careful. Morrible cannot find out that you and Fiyero are still alive and she has spies everywhere. I can hide you in a cabin in the woods for a couple of days, enough time for Morrible to receive confirmation of your supposed death, and I'll check in with Yero first to see if it's safe. If it is, I'll come pick you up and take you to him."

The younger girl studied Elphaba's face in interest. "You called him 'Yero'," she noted. "What's going on between the two of you, exactly?"

Elphaba couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips. "If you ever figure that out, please let me know," she said sourly. "And besides, don't you think you have other things to worry about at the moment?"

Myah sobered. "Right." She straightened her back and looked at Elphaba seriously, all business now. Like this, she seemed much older than her age. "What do you need me to do?"

* * *

The two girls spent the next hour or so going over their plans together. Once it was dark, Elphaba chanted the spell that made the illusion of a murdered Myah appear in the bed. She unfolded her wings and instructed Myah to come closer and hold on to her.

The blonde looked hesitant. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"Quite," Elphaba assured her. "Come on, wrap your arms around me."

Myah, however, still seemed reluctant to actually do so. "I mean, your wings are big, but not _that_ big. What if I hurt you? Or they tear?"

"They won't tear. I've carried people before." She glanced at Myah. "Myah, we have to hurry. Get on with it – before anyone sees us."

"Right." Myah took a deep breath and then stepped in, winding her arms around Elphaba's waist and clinging to her. Elphaba wrapped her arms around the girl as well and then kicked off, shooting up into the sky, and she felt Myah's grip tighten almost painfully. When she glanced down, she could see that the other girl had squeezed her eyes shut.

Elphaba chuckled softly. "Are you scared?"

"A little," Myah squeaked, still clutching Elphaba's waist and holding on for dear life, her face buried in the green girl's shoulder. "You won't drop me, will you?"

Elphaba smirked, still looking down at the princess clinging to her for dear life. "Of course not. You're doing fine."

"Please focus on where you're going," Myah breathed, her eyes open wide in panic now, and Elphaba grinned as she concentrated on her flying again – not that she really needed to. It was second nature to her now.

As always, she kept a close eye out for Gale Force soldiers as she flew, but she didn't think anyone spotted her and Myah. It was a cloudy night and it was late. It started raining lightly after a while.

Myah shivered violently. "I hate rain," she moaned. "Why does she always insist on making it rain?"

"I have no idea." Elphaba's teeth were chattering, too, but she tried to look at the bright side. "At least no-one will be out in this weather, so there's a smaller chance that we are spotted." She didn't tell Myah how much more difficult flying would be once her wings got wet. She didn't want to scare the girl further. Besides, it wasn't much farther now.

"How much longer?"

Elphaba glanced down at the younger girl, who still seemed quite scared and was now also slowly getting soaked. "We're almost there."

Not much later, they landed just outside a small cabin deep in the woods surrounding Kiamo Ko. Myah was visibly shaking as she let go of the dark-haired witch, but to her credit, no complaint passed her lips. She silently followed Elphaba through the front door of the cabin and looked around.

"It's not much," Elphaba apologised, "but there's a bed, there's a well behind the cabin, and there's some food in the cupboards. I just… don't want to take any risks with you."

"I understand," said Myah. "Thank you, Elphaba. You saved my life and you're being so careful with me now… It means a lot to me, and I know it will mean a lot to Yero, too." A bright smile lit up her face at the thought of her brother. "Oz, I can't believe he really is alive… You'll tell him about me, won't you? I think he thought I was dead for long enough now."

"Of course I will," Elphaba agreed. She paused. "Be careful, okay?"

Myah nodded. "You, too."

"I will. I'll be back in a day or two, maybe three, to check up on you and to take you to see your brother." Elphaba gave the girl a nod and then left the cottage and flew in the direction of Kiamo Ko again. She could only hope she wasn't making a terrible mistake by doing this. If Myah was discovered and captured – or worse, killed – Elphaba knew she would never forgive herself… and neither would Fiyero.

The moment she arrived at Kiamo Ko, she went in search of him, starting with his bedroom, where he usually was. He was there now, too, painting; but he stopped when she came in and gave her a happy smile. "Fae!"

"Don't hug me, I'm all wet," she warned him, but he just rolled his eyes and strode over so he could take her face between his hands and capture her lips with his. She didn't let it last too long, however. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed and took a breath. "Yero… I have to tell you something."

He didn't think that sounded good, but he installed himself against the headboard and crossed his legs, trying not to think the worst. "Just spit it out," he suggested and she nodded.

"Morrible sent me on another assignment," she said. He flinched a little, knowing what that meant for her, but she placed a hand on his knee and squeezed gently. "I was never going to carry it out, you know."

"I know," he said. "But I also know that every time you deceive Morrible, it's a risk for you."

She nodded. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, though." Another deep breath. "I found the girl I was supposed to kill and explained things to her. We were just about to leave when… when she asked me if there was something she could bring. A photograph." Her gaze flicked to the photograph on his own nightstand. "One I'd seen before."

Fiyero held his breath, staring at her with wide eyes, and she smiled faintly at him. "Now don't freak out, but… Yero, your sister is alive. Myah is alive."

He couldn't stop the tears that instantly filled his eyes at that. "She's alive?" he croaked and Elphaba nodded, smiling as she reached for his hand.

"How did she look?" he asked intently.

"She looked fine," Elphaba assured him. "A little older and skinnier than she does in that photograph of yours, but otherwise the same."

He was smiling now, too, despite his tears.

"I'm bringing her here," Elphaba said. "In a couple of days. I flew her to the Vinkus just now, but I want to make absolutely sure that Morrible doesn't suspect anything before I bring her here."

Unexpectedly – for her, at least, since he felt her jolt in surprise – he yanked her to him and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her neck. "Oh, thank Oz," he muttered, crying now, but he didn't even care. "Thank you so much, Fae."

"I didn't do anything," she protested mildly, but he just pulled back and kissed her, muffling any other protest she might be able to come up with. It almost seemed too good to be true. For years, there had been nothing but loneliness and misery; and now, in the course of just a few months, not only had Elphaba come into his life, but his sister turned out to still be alive as well. He couldn't believe she had survived and Elphaba had found her, just like that. He let the sensation of immense gratitude wash over him and he kissed Elphaba almost desperately, pouring all of that gratitude and relief into their embrace.

"Where has she been all this time?" he demanded after letting her go. "What happened to her? How did she escape those soldiers?"

Elphaba, laughing, tried to fend him off. "I don't know, Yero. We didn't exactly have time to chat in great detail. All I know is that she's been a rebel, presumably ever since the rest of your family was killed, and I picked her up in Munchkinland. She thought you were dead, too," she said, looking at him. "She was so happy to hear that you're not. You'll see her again soon, I promise, and then you can ask her everything, but I don't know anything else right now. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Are you crazy?" He kissed her again, pressing her tightly to him. "Thank you. You're amazing."

She tried to protest, but he muffled her protests with his lips and she didn't fight him too hard after that.

He drew away again fairly quickly, though. "You're drenched," he commented, his brow furrowing in worry. "Sorry. I should have offered you a towel and dry clothes right away." He scurried off to get them, sitting down behind her and carefully attempting to dry her wings with a towel as she wrung out her hair and dabbed at her skin. He offered her dry clothes, which she refused, claiming she'd have to leave soon again, anyway; so he took her to sit by the fire, pulling her back into his arms, as she bent her wings towards the flames to let them catch as much heat as possible.

He held her for a long time, once again marvelling at how good it felt to just hold someone in his arms again. She felt right there, as if she'd always belonged there but neither of them had known it until now – cliché as that was. He couldn't stop kissing her, if only because it was the only way he felt he could express the gratitude and the love he felt; and she didn't seem to mind much, so he didn't stop, either.

She pulled away eventually. "There's a risk involved for both of you," she warned, self-consciously touching her lips, which were now swollen from the kissing. He grinned at her and she scowled and swatted at him playfully. "Don't look at me like that. I'm trying to be serious here."

He laughed. Before her, he didn't even remember what it was like to laugh. She'd brought that back for him, just like he had for her – he didn't think she'd had the luxury of being playful like this for the past four years, either. Whatever their relationship was and however long – or short – it lasted, he could already tell it changed them both for the better. It provided them with some sort of break from their daily lives of darkness and misery.

"Yero." She met his gaze and held it. "You need to figure out what you want to do."

He stared at her, uncomprehending. She explained gently, "Now that you know your sister is alive, and now that I was sent after her to kill her, she can't stay in Oz. She has to leave, and so do you."

His face fell and then hardened. "No," he said. "I'm not leaving you."

She scowled. "But you're leaving your sister?"

"Myah can stay here with me," he declared, raising his chin stubbornly. "There's more than enough room for both of us. We'll be fine. I'm not letting you bring down Morrible by yourself, Elphaba. I'm going to stay right here and help you in any way I can."

"Even if that's dangerous for Myah?" she asked pointedly and he faltered. She took his hands in hers. "Yero, you need to think about her," she pleaded. "She's only a girl. She's survived so far, but you can't abandon her or put her in any more danger."

"I won't!" he protested. "I would never! But fleeing Oz isn't safe for her, either, is it? The flight in itself would be dangerous!"

"I've helped other rebels escape across the border," said Elphaba matter-of-factly. "It's never gone wrong before. I can get her across the border safely, I promise, but she wouldn't be safe here at Kiamo Ko. You should both go."

He looked at her helplessly and she kissed him gently.

"With a bit of luck, it'll all be over soon," she said. She didn't say that she didn't really think it would be that easy, or that she wasn't sure if 'over' meant that they would all be safe and happy or that they would all be dead.

He set his jaw. "I'm not making any decisions until I talk to her myself," he said.

Elphaba sighed. "Fine. Just keep in mind what I said," she warned him and he nodded. He just hoped he wouldn't have to choose between his sister and the woman he loved, because that choice was impossible. He couldn't leave either of them. Maybe, just maybe, they'd find a solution before such a choice was necessary.

"I have to go," she said. "I need to touch base with Morrible again and I think I'll stay in my apartment tonight, just to be on the safe side." She kissed his cheek. "I'll be back tomorrow evening, okay?"

"Okay," he said, reluctantly letting her go. He opened the doors to the balcony for her and watched as she leapt off the railing and flapped her wings a few times, disappearing into the night sky.


	12. Blissful

**Oops. I meant to update last night, but between my dancing lesson and NaNoWriMo, I completely forgot! Sorry!**

 **I think you'll like this one, though.**

* * *

 **Blissful**

"Madame Morrible," said Elphaba, curtseying.

The older woman studied the green girl, eyes slightly narrowed as always. At least it made her look a little less like a fish. "I take it you have successfully completed your assignment, then?"

"Of course," said Elphaba, trying to keep an air of confidence about her. "As always. Have I ever failed you before?"

"No." Morrible smirked. "You know the consequences for failing me, after all, dearie." There was an ominous undertone to her voice, but that was nothing new. The woman liked to threaten everyone, every once in a while.

Elphaba felt a shiver run down her spine. Even now, with the protection of the mind-shielding spell, the thought of what Morrible could do to her made her feel sick to her stomach.

She waited. Morrible studied some papers in front of her, obviously distracted, and then glanced up at Elphaba again. "Still here? You can go, dearie. No new assignment for you at the moment, but I'll call for you when I do have one."

Elphaba nodded and left without saying another word, only now realising a problem with her mind-shielding spell. If Morrible couldn't control her mind, she couldn't give her the headaches that signalled she wanted Elphaba back in the Emerald City; and if she summoned the green girl and Elphaba didn't show up, she'd certainly be suspicious. Elphaba decided she'd just return to Morrible early in any case, to be on the safe side – tomorrow, probably, or the day after.

She visited Glinda, reluctant to return to her apartment by herself and spend the night alone. They worked on creating an original spell until well into the night before Elphaba finally left. Since she wasn't tired, anyway, she decided to visit Myah, now that it was dark and no-one would see her, just to see how the younger girl was settling in.

When she sneaked into the cottage through the back door, she was greeted by a raised broomstick that nearly whacked her in the head. She could only duck away just in time. "It's me!" she yelled and Myah quickly dropped the broomstick.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, looking sheepish. "I thought you were an intruder!"

Elphaba shook her head, a smirk dancing around her lips. "It's good to know you're capable of defending yourself. I should find you a better weapon than a broomstick, though."

Myah giggled nervously. "Is something wrong? Why are you here?"

"Just checking up on you," said Elphaba, stretching her wings a little before folding them back up. "I told Yero about you. He's going to be so incredibly happy to see you again."

Myah smiled widely. "So am I. I can hardly wait! I mean, I will wait, of course, but I wish I didn't have to!"

Elphaba chuckled. "Well, Morrible doesn't seem to suspect anything, so with a bit of luck I can come get you tomorrow or the day after," she said and the other girl's eyes lit up.

"Yay!"

Elphaba gave her a searching look. "How old are you, again?" she asked, only half-joking.

"Eighteen," said Myah, glaring at the dark-haired witch in return.

Elphaba laughed. "Okay, then you're allowed to say 'yay'."

Myah stuck out her tongue.

The two girls chatted for a while before Elphaba excused herself and returned to the City to catch some sleep after all. It didn't work out too well, though. It was strange that she'd been so hesitant in the beginning to share Fiyero's bed at all and now her bed felt empty when she was lying in it by herself. Pathetic, she decided, turning onto her other side and resolutely closing her eyes. She'd been on her own for ages. She was fine on her own.

Despite that fact, however, she had to admit that she was happy to return to Kiamo Ko the next evening and that her heart leapt a little at the sight of Fiyero. Very pathetic, she thought to herself as she burrowed into his arms and let him kiss her, but true.

"How's the spell coming along?" he asked as they reclined against the headboard of his bed together. He took her in his arms while he lazily and repeatedly ran his fingers through her hair. "Did you and Glinda make any progress?"

She sighed. "Not much," she said glumly. "It's much harder than it seemed at first. We'll need more time."

He kissed the top of her head. "There's no rush. You have time."

She wanted to argue, but he slid his lips down her temple and then her cheek, to her own lips, and she decided her mouth was more pleasantly occupied as it was. She moaned softly as he deepened the kiss, pressing her back onto the bed, his fingers skimming along the strip of bare skin where her blouse had ridden up a little. She focused on the kiss instead, trying not to tense up at his touch.

After she'd first asked him to, he'd challenged her like this more often and he went a bit further every time, even though nothing momentous had happened yet and probably wouldn't for another while, either. Still, she could tell it helped her a little just to know that someone could touch her like this with no ill intentions – someone she could trust.

As he stroked her bare skin, one hand gently gliding up to rest on her stomach underneath her blouse, she decided that it wasn't really fair that he got to have all the fun. She tugged at his own shirt and he let her pull it off, clearly surprised. His teeth were prolonged now and his body was more muscular than usual. She took her time to study him, smiling a little at the sight. There was something about him whenever he shifted slightly like this, something primal, that she had to admit she found attractive, in a slightly twisted way.

"What?" he whispered, clearly self-conscious under her gaze, and her smile turned impish.

"Nothing," she murmured, pulling him back down for another kiss.

He nipped gently at her neck, down to her collarbone, but not any lower than that. The skin of his torso was warm under her fingers and she tried not to look at the scars covering it, her heart aching for him at the thought of what he had been through. Instead, she traced the blue diamonds tattooed on his chest and abdomen, entranced. "I didn't know you had tattoos."

"Tribal tattoos," he mumbled, kissing her neck again, his hand brushing her hipbone over her skirt. "All Vinkuns have them. Women get them when they bleed for the first time, signalling their transition from girlhood to womanhood; and men get them after going through a ritual of learning the tribal ways of surviving in the wild. I was thirteen when I got mine."

"They're beautiful," she whispered, leaning in to press her lips to one of them. He inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into her hip, and she smirked devilishly as she kissed another one, and another. He nuzzled her cheek, brushing his lips along her skin. Sighing happily, she allowed herself to relax in his arms, enjoying the feeling of being pressed against him like this. She knew he was being foolishly optimistic when he said he hoped he wouldn't have to choose to leave Oz, but she couldn't help but feel that same stupid hope. She knew he couldn't and wouldn't abandon his sister, and she didn't want him to… but she also really didn't want him to leave.

She hadn't even realised until now that his hand had made its way down her waist and into her skirt, stroking the bare skin of her hip and thigh, and she resisted the urge to pull away. He must have sensed her unease, because he whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head wordlessly and he kissed her again, softly and gently this time, trying to convey to her that she could trust him. "Don't worry," he breathed against her lips. "It's okay. You're okay." He wrapped his other arm around her, drawing her close against his chest, and she pressed her cheek against the tight muscles there. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to his heartbeat and allowing the sound to calm her down. Her wings wrapped around them both without her even really thinking about it, forming a cocoon around them. Fiyero smiled and brushed against the feathers – first with his fingers, then with his lips. Elphaba made a satisfied little noise, her eyes closed, and her wings trembled ever so slightly at his touch, which made him smile.

He moved his hand eventually, running it gently up her bare back towards the base of her wings, and he growled a little. When she gave him an enquiring look, he asked her, his voice hoarse, "Where did those scars come from?"

Of course he would have felt them on her bare skin – the results of whiplashes and magic, among other things. "Where did yours come from?" she countered, tracing one of the scars on his abdomen to prove her point. "Do you really want to talk about that?"

He pressed his lips together, then shook his head. "I guess not. Unless you want to tell me."

"Not particularly." She kissed him hard. "It doesn't matter now. It's not important anymore."

When he didn't reply, she pulled back a little, stroking his face gently. "Really, Yero, it's okay," she murmured, kissing him more softly now. He kissed her back and she felt his muscles shift under his skin as he changed more into a man again when he calmed down.

They kissed and explored for a long time before the sound of her grumbling stomach pulled them from their bubble and they both chuckled, slightly sheepish. "I guess that's our cue to start making dinner," said Fiyero, grinning. He quickly pulled on his shirt and held out his hand to help her up as well. Blushing, she smoothed out her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair before taking his hand and following him out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen.

She took a knife and a pile of potatoes and hopped onto the counter, chatting easily with him as she peeled the potatoes while he started cooking some vegetables. As always when they spent their time together like this, she felt more normal than she ever had before in her life. It was a nice feeling, partly because of it volatility, with always the thought in the back of her mind that it could never stay like this. She wasn't normal. Neither was he. Their lives would probably always be crazy, but that was all right, as long as they had little moments like this.

"Where did you learn how to cook?" Fiyero asked her as he watched her toss ingredients together and add some dried herbs to the mix, stirring it slowly.

"At home, in Munchkinland," she answered. "After my mother died, Father hired a woman to be our nanny and housekeeper; but once I was old enough to do the chores and look after Nessa myself, he let her go. Money was scarce by that time already. Morrible hadn't taken over yet, but she was heavily influencing the king. We just couldn't pay our housekeeper anymore, so from when I was eleven or twelve, I did the cooking and cleaning at home."

He gave her a horrified look, which she didn't acknowledge. "What about you?"

He huffed a laugh. "I didn't learn to do anything until I escaped her and came here two years ago," he said, making a face. "I wasn't exactly known for my skills or intelligence before I was captured – unless you're referring to my skills in seduction and party-throwing and my knowledge about alcohol."

She laughed as she stirred their dinner again, adding some more herbs. "I heard the rumours," she admitted. "One does hear things, even as a rebel, and you were already famous among teenage girls before I even left Munchkinland."

He reddened visibly, which made her cackle. "In fact," she said, eyes twinkling with unholy glee, "Glinda confided in me that she used to be your biggest fan. She had a poster of you from _Ozmopolitan_ above her bed and she used to kiss it every night before going to sleep."

"What?!" he spluttered, wincing at the mere idea.

Elphaba, still grinning, leaned up to kiss his cheek as she passed by him with the cooking pot. "Dinner's ready," she said innocently.

After dinner, Fiyero lit a fire in the fireplace in one of the sitting rooms and they sat down in front of it together, Elphaba as usual with a spell book in her lap and Fiyero with Elphaba in his lap. It was a little distracting, the way he kept combing her hair away from her face so he could brush kisses along her cheek, neck, and shoulder, sometimes nuzzling her wings even though she tried to keep them out of his reach. She swatted him away a few times, but he playfully kept up his game until she finally gave in, her eyes closing and her head falling back against his shoulder. "You're not going to let me get any reading done, are you?"

"I think you've been doing enough reading lately and you deserve a break," he said with a grin.

She smiled, but she sat up again and picked up her book. "Really, though, I can't let Glinda do all the work. I just need to finish going through this one and then I'm all yours again, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, moping a little, but he put his chin on her shoulder, feeling one of her wings wrap around him again. He liked it when she did that, which she probably knew, because she'd been doing it more and more often lately. "Can I at least read along?"

"Sure." She adjusted the book a little in her lap, allowing him to read the words over her shoulder, and they spent the rest of their evening that way. Elphaba found a couple of things that could be useful, but she and Glinda had already concluded that their most important source of origin spells for the spell they were trying to write had to be the Grimmerie.

They went to bed early, both of them tired. Much to her own surprise, Elphaba slept like a log throughout the night, something that had almost never happened before; she was usually too restless to sleep for very long, let alone uninterrupted. Perhaps it was because she felt more relaxed now than she had in a long time, since she and Glinda were well on their way to finding a solution to their Morrible-problem and things were going well with Fiyero, too.

She didn't feel refreshed when she awoke, however, mainly because she was rather roughly woken up very early in the morning by someone shaking her.

"Elphie!" the person hissed. "Elphaba, wake up!"

She mumbled something and tried to turn around, but the shaking intensified. "Elphaba, get up!"

"Glinda?" Fiyero asked, sounding just as sleepy as Elphaba felt. "What's wrong?"

"She's coming!" the blonde wailed. "Morrible is coming! She found out! You both have to go _now_!"

Finally awake now, Elphaba shot up. Fiyero was already out of bed, groping around for his clothes. "How much time do we have?"

"Not enough to pack," Glinda replied instantly. "Just _go_. You can always come back for your things later, or I can get them to you, but you have to leave!"

Fiyero pulled Elphaba up. "Where are your things?" he demanded and she looked at him, her dark brown eyes wide and filled with panic.

"Downstairs," she breathed. "In the kitchen."

" _Go_!" Glinda urged them and they dashed off. The blonde made to follow them, but Elphaba stopped her.

"You can't be caught," she said hurriedly. "Get out. We'll be fine. Take the Grimmerie." Thank Oz at least that book was upstairs.

Glinda hesitated a brief moment, then nodded and turned, grabbing the book from the desk in the corner of the room. She threw open the doors to the balcony and summoned her bubble. Elphaba was glad her friend at least recognised the stupidity of going with her and Fiyero.

"Yero," she said, catching up with him. "You need to hide. One of those hidden trapdoors or secret rooms, I don't care. I'll get my satchel and come back later."

He gave her a look that clearly told her that wasn't going to happen. "We could both hide."

Elphaba shook her head. "If she gets her hands on my things, she'll know that Glinda and her family have been helping me," she said desperately. "I can't let that happen. I can't put them in danger like that. I have to get my bag."

He nodded shortly. "Then we'll get it together."

They almost made it. Almost. They reached the large hallway and Elphaba's hand was already on the doorknob of the door to the kitchen when a voice spoke up behind them, almost purring, sending violent shivers down the young witch's spine.

"Well, well, well," said Madame Morrible and Elphaba could hear the triumphant smirk in her voice. "What a surprise to find you here, Miss Elphaba."

* * *

 **Wait - did I say I thought you'd like this one? Sorry. I must've been confused. *cackles***


	13. Love Is Blind

**I was kind of expecting a lot of angry/upset reviews after the ending of the previous chapter, but I guess I struck you all speechless? Lol. Well, if you won't yell at me for Morrible showing up, maybe you'll yell at me for this. *more mad cackling***

* * *

 **Love Is Blind**

Elphaba twisted around, wings flaring, her body instinctively poised to fight, even though she knew that would be of no use. Fiyero's grip on her hand was so tight he was nearly crushing it and she tried to shield him, stepping in front of him. Morrible just laughed, raised a hand, and muttered something under her breath.

Fiyero changed instantly. His hand was ripped from her grip and when she looked at him, she saw that he had changed completely, more fully and more quickly than she'd ever seen before. What scared her most, however, was the look in his eyes. They weren't his eyes anymore.

She stepped back before she could help herself; then she kicked herself for that. She'd always told him she'd never be afraid of him and she wouldn't start now. He needed to know that he could trust her to keep her word.

Only… was he still in there to even know whether or not she did?

Morrible said a few words again and Fiyero growled, glaring at Elphaba. Then he pounced.

She leapt out of his way and ran, past Morrible and the guards she had brought with her, to the front door. Before she reached it, however, Fiyero was already there, another growl revealing his fangs to her, and she swallowed. "Fiyero," she whispered even though she knew he probably couldn't hear her. "Stop. Don't let her control you."

"He has no choice, dearie," said Morrible simply. She grinned. "Not any more of a choice than you did, every time you disobeyed me."

Elphaba shuddered at the mere memory of those times.

The older woman came forward slowly. "I've been suspicious for a while already," she admitted, "but somehow, you always managed to convince me that you were on my side – reluctantly, but still. And yet… something changed. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Love made sense, but who could you possibly be in love with?" Her grin widened as she looked at Fiyero. "Isn't this romantic? The little ugly witch and the big ugly beast. I'd almost say that you deserve each other." Her eyes hardened.

Elphaba tried to fly up, but Fiyero jumped at her again, so fast that she didn't have time to get out of the way. She brought up her arms, trying to protect her face; but then he stopped.

"Yero?" she squeaked, for a moment wondering if he was strong enough to break Morrible's control over him after all, but then she saw the hag's raised hand and realised she had stopped him.

"How many?" Morrible asked calmly.

Elphaba slowly lowered her arms. "How many what?"

Morrible snorted. "How many rebels did you help escape instead of kill? How many times did you defy me?"

The dark-haired witch raised herself to her full height, straightening her back and lifting her wings. She'd always known this day would come. It wasn't exactly what she had expected, but she was prepared. She'd done what she could and she was proud of that.

"Everyone," she said, smirking ever so slightly, despite herself, at the shock that fleetingly passed over Morrible's face. It was clear the older witch hadn't expected that. "Everyone you didn't kill by taking over my mind, I saved. I've been defying you for four years, _Madame_. I've lost count of how many rebels there were, frankly, but you can rest assured that they are all safely living in Ev, or Quox, or Ix, or anywhere else out of your reach; and no matter what you do to me now, it was worth it."

She'd never seen Morrible's emotions getting the better of her before, but now the woman turned almost purple with rage. With a furious shriek, she released Fiyero, who hit Elphaba with such force that she was knocked to the ground. His teeth sank into her shoulder and she screamed, but Morrible got a grip on herself just in time.

"No," she breathed, panting a little with the effort of holding back her anger. Her beady eyes were glowing. "I'm not letting you off that easily. Death is too mild a punishment for you. You will rot, alone and in pain, for the rest of your long, miserable life." She made Fiyero crawl off the green girl and retreat back to her and her soldiers.

Elphaba tried to get up, wincing in pain. Blood was running down her arm, but she didn't look at the wound. She'd take care of that later.

Morrible looked at Fiyero thoughtfully for a moment and then smiled a wicked little smile before looking back at Elphaba.

"You gave yourself away, you know," she said, calm and in control of the situation once more. That horrible grin was back on her face. "I probably wouldn't have suspected anything if the Grimmerie hadn't disappeared. Then, still, I didn't really suspect you. I only got suspicious when I called for you and you didn't appear."

Elphaba closed her eyes briefly. The mind-shielding spell. Oh, Oz, she had been so stupid…

"So I called you again," Morrible continued. "And when you finally showed up, I tried to control you, just to see if I could still do it… and I couldn't. There was a wall around your mind so thick that I just couldn't get through. I knew you could never have done that by yourself. It had to have been the Grimmerie." The corner of her mouth twitched. "So I had you followed."

Elphaba flinched. It looked like Morrible knew everything.

"Kiamo Ko," Morrible mused. "An interesting choice. I didn't fully understand what it meant at first, but it didn't take me long. You were in love, the Grimmerie was gone, and you were suddenly protecting yourself from me. It made sense to think that the target at the castle must have stolen your heart. That is why, the next time you came, I gave you an assignment I knew would betray your true loyalties, one way or the other. I told you to murder the sister of the man you supposedly loved. Then I had someone follow you – and what do you know? He reported back to me that he saw you and the girl fly off together in the dark."

The green girl could only stare. Even that – even Myah – had been a trap. Her breath caught in her throat when she realised what this meant. They knew about Fiyero's sister. Did they have her already, or would they capture her later? Would they execute her, the way they had executed her sister, brother, and parents?

Fiyero prowled closer again, grunting, and she looked at him helplessly. He was beyond her reach now, but she still had to say it. "I'm so sorry, Yero," she choked out, her voice thick with held-back tears, but she wouldn't give Morrible the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry." If she hadn't returned to him, none of this would have happened. How cruel was it to give his sister back to him, only to rip her away again before he'd even had a chance to see her?

Morrible threw her head back and cackled, clearly enjoying this. "Don't worry, dearie," she said in amusement. "We'll find the little princess later. Even as we speak, my men are searching the entire castle. For you and your prince, however, I have something different in mind." She kept talking after that, but the only thing Elphaba registered was the fact that they thought Myah was at Kiamo Ko. Relief washed over her, so strong that it made her feel dizzy. They didn't know where Myah was. That meant she was still safe – for now, at least.

The world was spinning, but then she became aware of Fiyero closing in on her once more. With one hand – or claw, really – he pressed her to the ground easily, leaving her helpless. He was too large and too strong like this. She tried summoning her magic, but Morrible noticed and gave Fiyero another order, at which he moved one of his claws to press against her wounded shoulder. She screamed in pain, too distracted now to be able to call for even the tiniest bit of magic, which was just what Morrible wanted.

"I'm going to give you a choice, dearie," said Morrible, taking a few steps towards the green girl still held down to the floor by the prince-turned-beast. "I want you to lift your mind-shielding spell."

"What, so you can make me kill people again?" Elphaba demanded, shaking her head violently. "So you can have me tortured again without me even being able to fight? I don't care what you do to me, Morrible, but I'm not letting you do _that_ again. You're staying out of my head for the rest of my life, I'll make sure of that, no matter how short my life may still be." Her words lacked bite, since she was still too much in pain to deliver them the way she'd wanted to, but that didn't matter. Regardless of what happened, she wasn't going to let Morrible control her again. She'd rather die. She just hoped she had that choice.

"Fair enough," the older woman said. She'd clearly expected this answer, which increased Elphaba's dread, because it had to mean that she had some solution at hand.

Fiyero, still holding her down, brought one hand up to her face, his sharp claws dragging along her skin. His other hand pressed down hard onto her ribs, making her gasp in pain.

"How do you think your lover would feel if he returned to his normal self and he knew he had killed you?" Morrible asked.

Elphaba struggled weakly. "You said you wouldn't kill me."

"He doesn't know that," said Morrible. "He won't remember this in detail once he is back to normal, but he'll remember enough. The blood. Your screams. He'll be back in my service soon, regardless of what you do, but you could spare him the guilt of thinking he has murdered you – not to mention a whole lot of pain. There are so many things I could do to him to make his life a living hell," she purred.

Elphaba shivered.

Morrible raised her eyebrows. "Lift the spell."

"I don't know the counter-spell by heart!"

Morrible snorted. "It's just a general counter-spell, dearie. Not _all_ spells in the Grimmerie are extremely powerful and irreversible and this is one of the more basic ones. Now do it."

Did she have a choice? Even now, looking at Fiyero and only seeing the beast he had been enchanted to be, she knew she couldn't do that to him. It would kill him, thinking he'd killed her, and she had already taken enough from him. He'd be Morrible's pet again soon, murdering people on command, because of Elphaba. He probably wouldn't see his sister again, or Elphaba herself, and he'd live the rest of his days in misery as it was, all because of her. The least she could do for him now was not make that burden any harder to bear.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely audible. "I'll lift it. Just… leave him be."

Morrible looked pleased. "That was easier than I thought." An evil gleam found its way into her eyes as she commanded Fiyero to return to her. "Maybe I should use him more often." With that, she muttered another few words and suddenly, Fiyero was back, entirely human and looking very dazed and confused.

"Fae?" he asked, panic creeping into his voice. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and when he lowered them again, there was blood on his skin. His eyes widened as he stared at the blood on his fingers, then at Elphaba and the blood still dripping from the wound in her shoulder. "Fae…" he breathed, his eyes wide. "I'm so sorry, I –"

"Hush, Yero. It's okay." Elphaba took a breath, slowly pushing herself to her feet with one arm. "Do you really need to make him watch this?"

"Watch what?" he asked shrilly. He was already changing again, but just a little this time, because of the fear coursing through him.

Morrible ignored him. "Yes," she said to Elphaba. "Now do it."

The green girl closed her eyes and mumbled the words under her breath. It was as if she could feel the protection around her mind crumble and break down, until there was nothing left. Instantly, a sharp headache pierced her skull and she cried out, falling to her knees again. Distantly, she heard Fiyero call her name.

"Very good," said Morrible, approval clear in her voice and a smile on her face. "I like it much better this way, don't you?"

When she saw Fiyero beginning to run towards the young witch on the floor, she motioned for some of her guards to restrain him and she looked at him. "You should be happy," she told him. "I'd have ordered you to maim her, but she desperately didn't want you to have to live with that on your conscience. Isn't that sweet?" Her smile widened. "I do wonder if it makes you feel any better to live with the guilt of knowing she sacrificed herself for you, though."

It didn't, Elphaba knew, but that didn't matter. He'd feel guilty because she had lifted her spell for him, but she'd rather have that over the other option Morrible had given her. Besides, it wasn't his fault. She'd do pretty much everything for him. He should know that by now.

He looked at her, blue eyes filled with pain, and she managed a shaky smile at him before glancing at Morrible again. "Can't you get him out of here?" she pleaded. "I did as you asked, didn't I?"

"You also worked against me for four years," Morrible snapped, eyes blazing. "You deceived me and you stole from me. You are in no position to bargain with me, Miss Elphaba. You should be glad I spared your little lover's feelings, but I'm not going to spare yours." With that, Elphaba could feel the old hag creeping into her head.

It was an awful feeling that she couldn't really describe. Perhaps the thing that came closest to explaining it was the feeling of a worm crawling into her head through her ear while she was unable to stop it. She shuddered at the feeling, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping it would be over soon, but she knew Morrible. The hag had probably only just begun.

"Well, then," said Morrible pleasantly. "What shall we do first?"

As the guards advanced on Elphaba and began beating her, Morrible's hold of her kept her from making a sound or fighting back in any way. When one of them tore at her dress, she was instantly catapulted back to the throne room that day and she knew that if Morrible wasn't controlling her, she'd be sick all over the floor. As it was, Fiyero was just as upset about it as she was, because he shifted further and fought the guards restraining him.

"Stop, stop!" Morrible shouted and the guards surrounding Elphaba stilled. She glared at Fiyero, who was only barely kept in check by her men, and she sighed irritably. Wild hope flared up inside of Elphaba. If he could change enough to break free from the men's grip, perhaps they could escape after all.

Unfortunately, Morrible seemed to have the same thought. "Don't do that again," she ordered. "It looks like the prince is quite protective of his little love and we don't want him to get away."

"What, you can't control him when he changes of his own accord?" Elphaba wheezed from the floor, raising her head.

Morrible glowered and didn't say anything, but that was answer enough for Elphaba. At least that was something they might be able to use to their advantage; she filed that information away for later. She knew that Fiyero couldn't control his transformations, either, so she wasn't sure how useful it would be in their current situation; but at the very least it kept these guards from touching her again in _that_ way – for now. She had no doubt that they'd pick up where they left off the moment they were alone and Fiyero had been taken away.

The older woman handed a knife to one of the guards. "Give this to her," she instructed him. He did, moving over to Elphaba and pressing the knife into her hand; but it didn't make her feel any better to have a weapon. She wouldn't get a chance to fight. She tried, of course, but Morrible's hold on her was too strong.

Slowly, she felt her own hand coming up, raising the knife to her face.

"They always do say love is blind," Morrible mused and Elphaba's eyes widened in panic. The hag grinned at her. "Let's test that theory, shall we?"

Fiyero had evidently come to the same conclusion as Elphaba had, because he began to struggle again, crying her name. More Gale Force soldiers were needed to hold him back, but he still hadn't changed enough to be able to shake them off. Whatever Morrible was planning on doing to her, Elphaba knew she had no way of stopping it.

The knife touched the corner of her right eye, just beside her nose, and Morrible smirked. Elphaba's hand was shaking, but she couldn't stop herself as she increased the pressure on the tip of the weapon, feeling some blood trickle down her nose. She couldn't move anything of her own accord; she couldn't even wiggle her little finger or blink her eyes. The only movement she could make was the one that forcefully dragged the blade along her skin, straight across her wide-open eye.

The difference was that this time, Morrible did allow her to scream.

* * *

 **Reviews are love! (Or hate, depending on what you write in them.) Who will be lucky number 100?**


	14. Stratagems

**Kudos to HC247 for, indeed, being the 100th reviewer! (You having to write something fluffy is never a bad thing!)**

 **Lol, Nia, I did talk to you about this in NY. Sorry for traumatising you guys, but Morrible just isn't nice and after discovering a betrayal this huge, admit it, she'd do something awful.**

* * *

 **Stratagems**

The older witch appeared to revel in Elphaba's screams; a wide smile spread across her face as she listened to the sound. It made Fiyero absolutely sick. Only when the blade had almost reached Elphaba's right ear did Morrible release her. The knife clattered to the floor and Elphaba collapsed in a heap, sobbing in pain.

"Do you want a final look at your prince, dearie?" Morrible asked in a deceivingly pleasant tone of voice as the young witch tried to pull herself together, blood dripping from her face and splattering onto the floor below her. "Before I do the same thing to your other eye?"

And that, somehow, was enough to make Fiyero shift enough to break free, letting out a howl as he leapt at Morrible.

She wagged a finger at him as if he were a naughty puppy. "Ah-ah," she chided him. She cast a glance in Elphaba's direction. He followed her gaze, only to find the green girl now pressing the knife against her own throat with one trembling hand, her good eye filled with tears and fear. He couldn't see her other eye; there was too much blood. He could guess how it would look, though, and it made him feel even sicker.

"Step back, Prince Fiyero," Morrible ordered him. "Calm yourself. I'd rather keep her than kill her, but I will do it if you don't obey me."

Left with no choice, he did obey, forcing himself to calm down enough to change back slightly. The guards grabbed him again and Morrible smirked. "That's better."

Fiyero hadn't even realised until now that he was crying, too. "Fae," he called out to her. His voice broke. He wasn't sure what he could say to her; he just wanted her to know he was there.

She raised her head, one hand pressed over her damaged eye and still holding the knife in her other hand, although Morrible appeared to have relaxed her control on the green girl for now. Her gaze met his for a moment, but then her eye shifted to something behind him and he saw something flicker in its dark depth.

"Fiyero," she whispered, swallowing her pain. "Run."

He began to protest, but her glare, even one-eyed, was enough to silence him. Something in her face told him she wasn't just trying to be noble and sacrifice herself for him. She had some kind of plan.

"How touching," said Morrible sarcastically. "He'd never leave you, dearie, and I'll never let him get out of here alive, anyway. It's no use."

He still hesitated, but then a very quiet voice breathed into his ear, "Do as she says. I've got her."

Glinda. She must have sneaked back inside. Relief washed over him, but he tried not to let it take over. Instead, he recalled everything he'd seen the old hag do to Elphaba, both this night and before, everything she'd told him; and all together, it was enough to make him so furious he could feel himself begin to shift again. Aided by the transformation, he gave a roar and broke free, throwing the guards off him.

"Run!" Elphaba shouted and this time, he didn't hesitate. He trusted her, and he trusted Glinda to get her best friend out of there.

He bolted, back to, and then straight through, the kitchen door, disappearing from view with some of the guards chasing after him.

Morrible faltered, surprised by this turn of events, and then there was some kind of explosion that came out of nowhere and knocked everyone in the room to the ground. Everyone but the one who had caused the magical outburst, anyway.

"Hurry!" Glinda cried, dragging Elphaba to her feet. "She won't stay down for long!"

With the guards' attention scattered, the remaining ones unsure of who to chase and whose escape to ignore, they managed to get out of the front door of the castle before Morrible could recover. Glinda helped her flee into the forest and soon they were out of sight, although they both knew they weren't safe yet.

"Thank you," Elphaba panted as they stumbled through the woods together. It was so cold they could see their breaths in the air, but at least it was too warm for snow, now. If it had snowed, they'd leave footsteps and Morrible would find them in a matter of minutes.

Glinda shook her head. "Oh, Elphaba, what did she do to you?" she asked sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there sooner…"

"You saved us," the green girl said. She winced, pain shooting through her shoulder and face at every step. "Do you have the Grimmerie?"

Glinda nodded. "Yes."

"Where are we going?"

Now the blonde girl looked helpless. "I don't know," she admitted. "My main priority was getting you out of there."

"And Fiyero?"

"I don't know where he's going, either, but we need to get away now, Elphaba. We can figure out those things later."

Elphaba nodded, knowing her friend was right, only to realise a problem. "I'm leaving a blood trail," she muttered. "Wait." She stopped walking and Glinda, catching on quickly, tore a few pieces of the skirt from her dress. She wrapped one around the green girl's shoulder as a makeshift bandage. Elphaba took the other piece from her and pressed it against her eye, a whimper escaping her lips before she could help it.

"Elphie," Glinda whispered, but the dark-haired witch ignored her.

"You have to help me," she said, only the slight tremor in her voice betraying her emotions. "I only have one eye and it's constantly tearing up because the other one hurts so badly, so I can't see much."

"Do you think it's bad?" Glinda asked, a slight note of hope in her voice. "Your eye, I mean? Maybe we can fix it? Clean it, or bandage it and let it heal on its own? Or… or use a spell?"

Elphaba gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Glin, I cut into my own eye with a _knife_. Even healing spells can only patch up so much damage. I think I'll have to get used to seeing with only one eye for the rest of my life."

Glinda winced. "I'm so sorry, Elphie."

"Stop saying that. If it weren't for you, I'd have lost the other eye, too. Just help me get out of here," Elphaba said, a little sharper than she had intended. Her blonde friend did as she asked, recognising the green girl was trying to stay strong – at least until they were somewhere safe.

Glinda silently led Elphaba through the forest, pausing and listening for signs of Morrible's guards every now and then, but she didn't hear them. She glanced over at her friend. Elphaba's wings were drooping, just barely refraining from brushing the forest floor and leaving a trail. She seemed to exhausted and too weak to even fold them up against her back, the way she usually did. Glinda could only hope they'd make it to a safe place soon. She wasn't sure where they were going, but then Elphaba said, "That big tree up ahead. Is that a weeping willow?"

"I'm not sure," said Glinda, feeling sheepish. "What does a weeping willow look like?"

The tiniest hint of a smile flitted across Elphaba's face at that. "The branches hang down. That's why it's called a weeping willow – when it rains, it looks like it's weeping."

"Ah." Glinda nodded solemnly. "Then yes, I think it is."

"Turn left," Elphaba instructed.

The other girl did as she asked, puzzled. "Why? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," Elphaba said quietly. "I hope so, at least." She swayed a little and Glinda tightened her grip on her friend, who gave her a weak smile. "I lost a little too much blood, I think."

"Will you make it?" Glinda asked worriedly. "I can't carry you, Elphie."

The young witch beside her just grunted. "I'm tougher than I look."

Glinda knew that meant Elphaba was probably right about on the verge of collapsing, but she didn't say anything, instead following the green girl's instructions until they reached some sort of cottage. "Who lives there?" she asked as they went up to the door.

"Myah?" Elphaba called, her voice hoarse and still shaking. "It's me."

The door opened and Myah's eyes widened to the size of saucers when she saw the state Elphaba was in. "Oh my Oz," she breathed. "What _happened_ to you?"

"Can we come in?" Glinda asked a little impatiently and Myah quickly helped the two witches inside. She met Glinda's gaze over the green girl's head and Glinda shook her head at the princess. "We need to clean that wound in her shoulder and we need to look at that eye," she said softly. "She needs rest, too. She's lost a lot of blood."

Myah grasped Elphaba's waist and allowed the dark-haired witch to lean on her, supporting her as she made her way over to the bedroom at the back of the house. She painstakingly managed to pull in her wings so they wouldn't be in the way and Glinda helped her lie down on the bed, pulling open the top of Elphaba's dress without even blinking. The fact that her friend didn't even protest told her more than anything about the shape she was in – she knew how uncomfortable Elphaba was with showing a lot of skin, even to her best friend.

"What happened to your eye?" Myah whispered, clearly horrified. Glinda couldn't blame her. The skin around the eye was raw, bloody and swollen; as far as the blonde could see, the white of Elphaba's eye was completely red. It was an impressive gash and she knew for certain it would scar, not to mention the damage to the eye itself.

"Morrible," Elphaba muttered and Myah shivered, turning away.

Glinda took a deep breath. "All right. I'll do this," she said bravely. "Unless you volunteer?"

She glanced up at Myah, who looked like she might faint any moment, so Glinda exhaled again slowly. "Right. Do you have any medical supplies here?"

The younger girl shook her head faintly. "I found some old sheets to use as bandages," she offered. "And I could boil water…"

Glinda grimaced. It wouldn't do, but she had nothing else to work with at the moment. She just hoped it would be enough for now. If Elphaba needed stitches, there'd be a whole different kind of problem, but she'd approach this one step at a time. "Please do. And while you're at it, why don't you also make some tea and something to eat? Elphie will need it to get her strength up soon."

The princess nodded, grateful for something semi-useful to do that didn't involve wounds or blood. "But… Can't you use magic?"

Glinda shook her head with a sad look on her face. "I don't know the spells," she admitted, lowering her gaze. "I'm much less skilled at magic than Elphaba is, and… she can't cast the spells on herself because they take so much energy. She could, maybe, once she's stronger, but since she'd have to be conscious the entire time, it'd hurt terribly; and in any case, it wouldn't be enough to enable her to see again. We'll have to do this the old-fashioned way for now."

Myah bit her lip and nodded. "I'll go get those bandages and the water," she said and fled the room.

Glinda bent over Elphaba. "Elphie, this is probably going to hurt," she warned. "Not as much as a spell would, maybe, but still."

"It already does," Elphaba croaked. She was feeling faint, although she'd never admit that, and the pain only seemed to get worse as more time passed.

Glinda took a deep breath and set to work. Very carefully, she dabbed away the blood around Elphaba's eye, enabling her to get a better look at it. She'd hoped it wouldn't be as bad as they'd thought, but her heart sank at the sight. The eye was still there, but that was about all she could say for it. It wasn't good.

"Well?" Elphaba asked when her friend didn't say anything. Sarcasm crept into her voice. "Do you still think a bit of cleaning and rest will be enough to heal it?"

Glinda shook her head mutely and the green girl bit her lip. "That bad?"

"I…" The blonde swallowed. "Maybe it just needs time to…" She trailed off.

"Listen, Glin," Elphaba said quietly. "I knew I'd lose that eye the moment I cut into it with that knife. I'm not going to be able to see with it again. Just… try to patch it up the best you can. You're an expert on making people look pretty," she joked weakly.

Glinda grimaced. "It's going to scar."

"One scar more or less isn't going to make much of a difference now."

"But it's your _face_ , Elphie!"

"As if my face was anything to look at before," Elphaba said sarcastically. When Glinda scowled, she added, "Glin, I got away from Morrible. That's the most important thing. If I hadn't, she'd have done so much worse. It doesn't matter."

The blonde clearly disagreed, but she tried the best she could with the supplies she had. She moved on to treat her friend's shoulder, cleaning it and bandaging it, instructing Elphaba to try to keep her arm still for the next few days at least.

"Now sleep," she instructed. "You lost blood and you need rest."

"Fiyero," Elphaba murmured, already half asleep.

"Shh." Glinda covered the dark-haired witch with a couple of blankets. "He'll be all right. He got away; he's probably just laying low for the time being. He'll find us, or we'll find him. Don't worry."

"We can't stay here…" Elphaba mumbled. "She'll find us."

"We'll think of something," Glinda promised her. "Just rest now."

Despite her worries and the pain she was in, Elphaba was asleep before the blonde had even left the room.

"We can't stay here," Myah said the moment Glinda re-entered the living room. "Can we?"

Glinda shook her head as she sat down at the table across from the princess. "It's too close to the castle. Sooner or later, they'll find us here." She took a breath. "I don't suppose you know of a safe place for us to go to?"

Myah shook her head. "No. Glinda… What happened?"

The blonde went with the shortest possible version, enquiring as to what Myah already knew and filling in the blanks and everything that had happened since she'd discovered that Morrible knew about Elphaba's betrayal. She explained to the younger girl what the woman had done to Elphaba's eye and told her that Fiyero had escaped, although she had no idea where he had gone.

"He doesn't know where I am," said Myah. "I mean, he knows I'm here, but he doesn't know where this cottage is. Only Elphaba does. She insisted on that, for my safety."

"What if something had happened to her and she couldn't come to take you to Fiyero?" Glinda asked, knowing her friend would have had some sort of back-up plan in case that happened.

"If I hadn't seen her for a week, then I was supposed to go to Kiamo Ko," Myah said.

Glinda looked thoughtful. "Do you think he would go back there?" she asked, but the princess shook her head.

"I don't know," she said helplessly. "He might… It's the only place that would make sense for us to meet up at, but it's also the place where Morrible will most likely keep some guards stationed for that exact same reason. If we go there, there's a big chance of us getting captured. The same goes for Yero and I think he wouldn't take that risk – he's smarter than that. On the other hand…"

"…he might, if he thinks it would lead him to Elphaba," Glinda finished quietly.

Myah nodded. "I think so. If he really loves her that much… Fiyero has a big heart. He'd do anything for the people he loves."

Glinda thought of all he had risked, and was still risking, by being with Elphaba; and she nodded.

"I have an idea of where to go once we find him, though," she said, trying to focus on the bright side of things. "I think it would be safest if we could travel to my Momsie and Popsicle's house. They'll take us in, I'm sure of it. The only problem is that the journey might be quite long, but perhaps Elphie and I can do something about that. We still have the Grimmerie, after all." She smiled.

Myah nodded. "Okay."

They tried to lay out a plan – or something like it, anyway. There wasn't much to plan, aside from taking the Grimmerie to Elphaba once she awoke so she could find them a spell that could help them get to Gillikin; and finding a way to locate Fiyero. Still, it made them feel better to do something, so they kept busy. Eventually, however, Myah couldn't take it anymore.

"He's out there somewhere," she said to Glinda. "Morrible doesn't know what I look like, does she? I could go out and look for him. It wouldn't be that dangerous."

Glinda clearly doubted that. "Myah…"

"I can't just sit here and wait," the girl said stubbornly. "If he's out there, looking for you and Elphaba, while Morrible is still looking for him… I will never forgive myself if I'm sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, and he gets captured by her again in the meantime. I'm going, Glinda."

Glinda took one look at the princess's face and nodded, recognising there was no stopping her, anyway. "All right. Just… _please_ be careful," she begged. "I don't want to have to explain to Elphie that _you_ got killed or captured, too."

"I'll be careful," Myah promised and then she left the cottage.

Glinda sighed, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand, and stared out of the window. Now all she could do was wait – for Myah to return, hopefully with Fiyero; or for Elphaba to wake up. For the sake of her own nerves and her friend's health, she was fervently hoping the former would occur before the latter or she was sure there would be hell to pay.

* * *

 **There's a brief hiatus coming up, because I'm going to Malta for five days this Saturday and I'm not taking my laptop. I'll update Friday evening and then again on Wednesday, if I remember to do that. Just so you know!**


	15. Strategies

**I just realised that I'm going to leave you guys with a cliffy before my hiatus. Sorry about that. I couldn't really help it, anyway, because this chapter has a cliffy, and so does the next, and the one after that, and I swear I didn't plan it, so... yeah. You've been warned.**

* * *

 **Strategies**

Myah knew approximately in which direction Kiamo Ko was, so she headed there, keeping her eyes and ears wide open. She didn't think Morrible's guards would recognise her as a Tiggular and they'd probably leave her alone if she thought up some sort of excuse, but if she could hide from them instead, she would. She wasn't going to take unnecessary risks; she just had to find her brother.

When she eventually saw the castle in the valley below her, she hesitated, unsure of how close she should go. In the end, she decided to remain at a safe distance and start circling the castle, staying between the trees. She hoped Fiyero was laying low nearby, keeping an eye on things in case Elphaba or Glinda came back, but not revealing himself.

She turned out to be right. Just when she was on the verge of giving up and returning to the cottage after hours of fruitless searching, she heard rustling and then a hesitant voice.

"Myah?"

Her head whipped around and when she saw her brother, she couldn't help it – she burst into tears. "Yero!" Before he could so much as blink, she'd crossed the distance between them and thrown herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "It's you! It's really you! You're alive!"

He chuckled softly in her ear, his arms coming around her. He was stronger than she remembered, more muscular; perhaps even a bit taller, although that could be her imagination. He smelt different, too, and he sounded different, and the lines in his face and the weariness and sadness in his eyes hadn't been there, the last time she saw him… but it was him. Here was her brother, the one she'd thought to have been killed, and he was alive.

"It's me," he confirmed, pulling away and taking her face between his hands. She was surprised to note that while he'd been at least two heads taller than her four years ago, her head now reached his shoulders. "Oz, Myah…" He trailed off, just studying her face, and she broke into a wide smile, even with the tears still on her face. She hugged him again.

"I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner," he whispered. "I thought… I thought you were dead, but I should have…"

She shook her head, still clinging to him. "You didn't know. I didn't know, either. I managed – we both did… we survived." She drew back again and looked up at him. "We'll have to talk more later," she said earnestly, "but I need you to come with me now. I came to find you. Glinda and Elphaba want to leave, but they can't without you."

His eyes widened and he grasped her shoulders, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he had intended. For a moment, she thought she saw something ripple in his face, but she wasn't sure what it was or if she'd even seen it correctly. "Elphaba," he breathed. "Is she all right?"

Myah hesitated, which clearly made him panic, but she couldn't just say that Elphaba was fine when she so obviously wasn't. "She's hurt," she said softly. "She's in a lot of pain, but she's safe for now. Glinda is taking care of her."

He moaned and turned his back on his sister, wrapping his arms around himself and taking deep breaths. "It's my fault."

Myah frowned. "Yero…"

"I hurt her, My," he choked out. "I did that to her."

"I know," she said. "She told me. But she doesn't blame you. You couldn't help it, could you? You didn't do it on purpose."

He began shaking his head, but she cut him off. "Shall we just go? It's more dangerous here than it is back there and we need to get away as soon as possible."

He took another breath to calm himself and then nodded, turning back around to face her. "Okay."

As they walked, she told him how Glinda and Elphaba had ended up with her and how she'd found him. He, in turn, briefly summarised how he'd run, but never gone far, and stayed near the castle in the hopes of finding a trace of Glinda or Elphaba there at some point.

She didn't ask about his curse, and he didn't tell her. He knew that Elphaba had told his little sister the basics, but he just couldn't bring himself to go into detail and tell Myah about the terrible things he'd done.

The moment Myah opened the door to the cottage, Fiyero called, "Fae?" and looked around, but he didn't see her. Glinda was there, though, and she leapt to her feet when she saw him.

"Fiyero!" she exclaimed. "Oh, thank Oz!"

"Where is she?" he asked anxiously and her face softened. She pointed at the door without a word and he nodded and quickly crossed the room, opening the door.

Elphaba had been awake, flipping through the Grimmerie. When she'd heard the door open, she'd been afraid at first that Morrible or her men had found them; but then she'd heard Fiyero call out to her and she managed to push herself out of bed and struggle to her feet, although that was harder than she'd anticipated. The moment he came in, her good eye flew up to his face and she nearly burst into tears with relief.

"Yero," she breathed. She was still very weak on her feet, but she managed to bridge the small gap between them with a few stumbling steps, wings dragging heavily behind her, before she all but collapsed in his arms. He caught her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. She clung to him, closing her eyes for a moment. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured her. She drew away slightly to look up at him and he inhaled sharply, pain clearly visible in his bright blue eyes as he took in her injuries. He raised one hand to cup her cheek, gently running her thumb along the makeshift bandage Glinda had used on her eye.

He swallowed. "How… how bad…? I mean… Can I see?"

She wasn't sure if he should see, but upon taking in the look on his face, she nodded and reached back to remove the bandage. The moment her face came into view, he gasped and she couldn't help but wince.

She couldn't blame him. She knew what he was looking at; Glinda had refused to let her look in a mirror, but she'd done so when she'd woken up earlier, anyway. The cut ran from her nose straight across her eye and across her upper cheek, stopping at her hairline, and it was a nasty wound. Glinda had had to stitch it closed with a thread of cotton from one of the sheets Myah had found and although they had cared for the wound as best as they could, Elphaba knew it looked horrible and she'd probably have a huge scar. That was not even to mention her eye, which still looked swollen and red, and a milky film was starting to appear on her iris.

"Sweet Oz, Fae…" he whispered. He looked down at the bandage around her shoulder and hesitated, tentatively running his fingers along it. He could only imagine how much damage he had done there. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I'm so sorry, Fae…"

"Stop looking at me like that," Elphaba said sternly,. He was still avoiding her gaze, so she reached up to cradle his face between her hands and make him look at her. "It wasn't your fault," she said quietly. "She controlled you."

"I hurt you," he argued.

"Not on purpose."

He shook his head. "If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have had to lift your mind-shielding spell and you'd have been safe from her," he said unhappily. He gestured at her face. "She wouldn't have made you do this."

"I chose to lift the spell, rather than risk you getting hurt," she reminded him. "Because I love you. That wasn't your fault. Besides, it could have been a lot worse."

"How could it have been worse?" he demanded and she looked at him.

"You know," she said.

He shuddered when he realised what she meant. He did know.

"If it hadn't been for you, she'd have had that done to me again and I don't think I could have handled that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Morrible had only done it to her once before, but once had been enough; that one time had broken her just as badly as the murders Morrible had made her commit. "You saved me, you know."

He took her hand. He still didn't really look at her, which worried her a little. She knew it had to look terrible. She'd have a scar in her face for the rest of her life. What if he didn't want her anymore? It wouldn't be the first time someone rejected her for her looks, of course, but she couldn't help but think that it would be the first time it'd hurt this much.

She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a little faint. Fiyero squeezed her hand. "Fae?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "Just tired."

He gingerly scooped her up into his arms, carrying her back to the bed despite her weak protests. He helped her lie back down and re-bandaged her eye to make sure no dirt could find its way inside and she wouldn't accidentally rub against it in her sleep. He then tried to pull away, but she caught his hand, preventing him from going anywhere.

She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Are we okay?"

He looked at her. "I think you should be the one to answer that question," he pointed out. "I hurt _you_ , remember?"

"You didn't," she said instantly. She chewed her lip. "You know what? Never mind. I guess I'll just… sleep, like you said."

He lingered, watching her, clearly uncertain about what to do. "So _are_ we okay?"

She shrugged with her good shoulder. "As far as I'm concerned, yes."

"Good." Relief spread across his face and he leaned in, gently kissing her. When he pulled away, she blinked slowly at him.

"You don't… you know… mind?"

"Mind what?" he asked dumbly, only to realise what she meant, and his heart broke. "Oh, Fae… Of course I don't mind." He kissed her again and when she moved over, he lay down beside her, cradling her in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. "You're beautiful. You always will be. No scars are going to change that."

She teared up a little at that, because she was so glad he was still here and because… well, just because of everything; but she winced at the pain that brought to her injured eye. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her temple. "Now sleep." He held her as she nestled her head on his chest and promptly fell into another exhausted sleep.

* * *

When Fiyero returned to the living room after a while, it was to find Myah and Glinda both sitting at the table with serious faces. The prince leaned against the wall, observing them for a moment before speaking. "What are we going to do?"

Glinda looked tired as she glanced over at him. "Once Elphaba has rested some more, she can continue searching for a spell in the Grimmerie to transport us," the blonde answered. "We'll go to my parents in Gillikin and –"

"That's not what I meant." He shook his head. "I mean, it's a good plan, but… after that. Morrible will never stop looking for us. Elphaba's hurt… We can't risk Morrible catching us again."

There was an edge of despair to his voice and Glinda looked at him more closely. He seemed exhausted, both physically and mentally. There were bags under his eyes, which were blood-shot, and there was an aura of guilt and defeat hanging around him. She felt so sorry for him – him and Elphaba both. They had been put in an impossible situation.

"I've thought of that," she said softly.

He looked up at the tone of her voice and she gave him a sad smile. "We've been trying to fight, but I don't think we can make that work anymore," she admitted. "Morrible is too strong. I think we need to flee instead."

Fiyero was already shaking his head again. "It won't work. Elphaba can't leave Oz…" He trailed off when he saw the look on Glinda's face.

"She can't leave because Morrible put magical markers in place that hurt her when she tries to cross the border," Glinda explained. "I'm pretty sure, though, that the mind-shielding spell will protect her from that."

Now it dawned on him. "She can leave Oz?"

"I think so," said Glinda.

He made a face. "She's not going to like that," he warned the blonde. "She hates running when she can fight instead."

"Yes, well, she'll have to get over that," Glinda said a little snippily. "I rather think she'd prefer that over losing the sight in her other eye as well."

He winced, but nodded.

"We'll leave for my parents' house the moment Elphie finds a spell to take us there," Glinda decided, "and once her injuries have healed, we're going to leave Oz. For good."

* * *

The first thing Elphaba became aware of when she awoke again was the stabbing pain in her right eye and along the right side of her face. When she tried to open her eyes, it only got worse; and she couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Fae?" She could feel Fiyero gently brushing her hair away from her face. "It's okay. Can I get you anything for the pain?"

She began to shake her head, then thought better of it and murmured instead, "No." She took a breath, braced herself, and then tried to open her eyes again. It went better this time around, but it still hurt. A lot. More to distract herself than out of any real interest, she asked, "How long was I asleep?"

"A couple of hours," he replied, still stroking her face. "You needed it."

She nodded faintly and pushed herself into a sitting position. Fiyero hesitated for a moment before tentatively touching the bandage around her shoulder. "How does that feel?"

She wanted to lie and say it hardly hurt at all, because she knew how guilty he still felt for causing her that particular wound. She wasn't good at lying to him, though, and he'd notice sooner or later that it did hurt, anyway. "Not as bad as my eye," was what she settled for – which was true.

He still looked unhappy, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he climbed onto the bed beside her and she curled into him, lifting her head to lay it on his chest instead of on her pillow. They were quiet for a while.

"Maybe…" She raised her head a little to look at him. "Maybe I could cast some healing spells, after all, once I'm stronger," she suggested a little tentatively. "I mean… I've slept quite a bit now, and once I eat something –"

"Fae," he cut her off gently. "How much would that take out of you?"

She was clearly evading the question when she said vaguely, "Magic always takes some energy."

He shook his head. "If you really think you're up for it, and you can handle the pain Glinda says it causes, then you should," he told her. "If you want to do this for me, though, for whatever crazy reason you've concocted in your head, then I'll tell you to spare yourself the effort. Whatever you may think, I don't mind taking care of you, I don't think you're weak, and I already told you that you'll always be beautiful, regardless of how many scars you have."

She stared at him in mild amazement for a moment, which he took as a sign that he had correctly guessed the reason for her suggestion. "Which one was it?" he asked knowingly and she laid her head back down, because she was tired or in pain or just because she didn't want him to see her embarrassed, he didn't know.

"A bit of all three," she confessed finally, quietly. "And I don't want you to feel guilty, which I know you do every time you look at me."

He ran his fingers through her hair. "It'll be okay, sweetheart, really," he tried to soothe her. "We got away and we're together, that's all that matters. Between the four of us, we'll find a way, one way or another, to make things right again." He kissed the top of her head.

She clearly didn't believe him, but she didn't protest. Instead, she sat up again and said reluctantly, "I should go back to going through the Grimmerie. Oz knows how little time we have before Morrible and her men discover this cottage and I'd like to be far away from here when she does."

He nodded – he couldn't disagree with that. "I will leave you to it, then," he said, getting to his feet.

When he noticed a strange expression flitting across her face, however, he stopped. "Fae?"

She didn't reply, which wasn't reassuring.

He frowned and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I – I don't know," she said, clearly puzzled. "It felt like…" She gasped, suddenly, crying out in pain.

Fiyero panicked. "Fae? Elphaba, talk to me, what's going on?" he demanded.

She shook her head, clutching it. "Morrible," she choked out.

Glinda and Myah came hurrying into the room, alarmed by Elphaba's cry; and the moment Glinda saw her friend, she grabbed the Grimmerie from the nightstand and pushed it into Elphaba's hands. "Cast the mind-shielding spell," she urged the green girl, who complied. Relief was evident on her face when the headache disappeared.

"Are you okay?" Glinda asked worriedly and the dark-haired witch nodded, sinking back against the pillows.

"I am now. Although I guess I'd better hurry in finding us a way out of here."

Myah growled. "Stupid Morrible."

"You could say that again," said Glinda, shaking her head. "Elphie, can we get you anything, or do anything to help you?"

Elphaba hesitated, then shook her head. "I just need to concentrate on the Grimmerie for a while," she said apologetically and they didn't need her to explain further.

"We'll be right through that door," said Glinda. "I will get you some of that stew Myah made us earlier. You need to take care of yourself so your body can heal."

"Thank you," said Elphaba, knowing it would be of no use to protest. Besides, she actually was a little hungry.

"I'll get you some water," Myah offered. "Glinda, do I need to get some extra water for you to treat her wounds with?"

Glinda hesitated, then nodded. "It can't hurt," she said upon seeing the sceptical look on Elphaba's face.

The green girl sighed. "More cleaning of my eye won't bring my sight back," she pointed out tiredly, but Glinda just frowned at her.

"Let us do our thing, Elphie," she chided before disappearing back into the living room, Myah on her heels.

Fiyero pressed a kiss to Elphaba's temple. "I'll be right there if you need me," he promised and she smiled up at him.

"I know you will be."

"I mean it," he said. "Just call if anything is wrong, okay?"

"I will, Yero," she said patiently. "I promise. I'll be fine. I'll call you if I find the spell we need, too – or if I need to use the bathroom, or need anything to eat or drink, or if I'm cold, or anything hurts more than it should…"

He wasn't amused. "As long as you actually mean that. I mean, I know you."

"That you do," she murmured. She reached for him and he leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips before straightening again and heading for the door with a last smile in her direction, which she returned. As she opened the Grimmerie and focused on the words on its pages, Fiyero re-entered the living room and glanced over at the kitchen area, where Glinda was heating up the stew as Myah dragged a full bucket of water towards the counter.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, but they both shook her heads.

"I've got it," said Myah, picking up a second empty bucket. She paused and then hugged her brother with her free arm. "But thanks for the offer. You never offered me any help with anything back home," she teased. "It's a nice change."

He made a face at her as she moved towards the back door again, giggling.

He sighed, slumping down in a chair as he watched Glinda work. "I just feel so useless," he admitted and the blonde smiled at him over her shoulder.

"You're not," she said. "Take a moment for yourself. I think you need it."

Maybe he did, but he wasn't sure what would happen if he let the full impact of everything that had happened sink in. There was no time for emotions now. The moment Elphaba found a helpful spell, they had to leave and he needed to be alert and level-headed for that, not half-depressed and crying.

Head leaning in one hand, he sat observing the blonde woman. Somehow, she had never struck him as the domestic type or the type to keep her head cool in a crisis, but she seemed to be completely in control now. Without her, he was sure he and Elphaba would never have gotten away from Morrible.

"Have I thanked you yet?" he asked.

She shook her head. "You don't have to," she said with another smile in his direction as she took the pot off the fire and reached for a bowl. "I mean, there's no way I would have just left you there. Either of you."

"Still," he said. "Thank you."

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the door suddenly flew open with a loud bang. Fiyero leapt to his feet and Glinda spun around, both of them startled; but their surprise quickly turned to panic when guards streamed into the room, followed by an angry-looking Madame Morrible.

* * *

 **This is the part where I go 'MUAHAHAHAHA' and you all send me threatening reviews again.**


	16. Stepping Soft

**Thank you again so much for your reviews!**

* * *

 **Stepping Soft**

Elphaba wasn't stupid. The moment she heard the door bang open in the other room, she was fairly sure that she knew what had happened. She also knew that she could not be of any use to her friends if she stayed put and waited for Morrible and her guards to come find her.

Suppressing her emotions, as she was so good at doing in circumstances such as these, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself up. She was unsteady on her feet, wobbling a little – especially with the heavy weight of her wings pulling at her – but she managed to make her way to the window. She tossed the Grimmerie out of it and then slowly, but as quickly as she could manage, climbed out of it herself, biting back a cry when pain shot through her body upon hitting the ground. Without faltering, though, she grabbed the Grimmerie and began to move towards the trees.

"Elphaba!" someone hissed and she looked up, only to find Myah hiding behind the well. The younger girl shot forward to support Elphaba, taking the Grimmerie from her and helping her get into the forest.

"What happened?" Elphaba asked quietly. "Was it Morrible?"

Myah nodded. "I heard her. I was just on my way back inside with more water for Glinda when they came, so I ran back out."

Elphaba had to ask. "Do you think Glin and Yero…?"

"No," said Myah instantly. "She has them. I mean, I didn't see her take them," she acknowledged, "but I heard them. There's nothing we can do for them right now, Elphaba."

"She'll turn him back into a monster," the green girl whispered, a weight falling onto her shoulders. Her fault. Again.

Myah, however, barely flinched. "Not on my watch," she said firmly. "First, though, we need to get away from here."

Elphaba couldn't really argue with that, so she didn't say anything else, saving her energy for the flight.

Myah broke the silence again after a while. "How do you think she found us?"

"I…" Elphaba licked her lips. "I think that was my fault, too," she admitted, lowering her gaze.

Myah frowned. "How so?"

"The headache." The dark-haired witch shook her head. "I should have known better," she said. The guilt overwhelming her was so strong that it made her feel nauseous. "She must have tried to control me, or somehow tried to find my mind, to locate us… I think that's how she knew. I felt something strange, right before that headache came, but I didn't know what it was. I should have."

"You couldn't have." Myah seemed horrified, though. "Does that mean she can control people from a distance?"

Elphaba hesitated. "Not really," she said finally. "She can't control anyone she can't see and she can't just randomly access people's minds. She knows mine well, though, having manipulated it so many times, so she could probably locate it that way."

Myah nodded, satisfied with that explanation for now. "You cast that spell earlier, so she can't do it again, can she?"

Elphaba shook her head and the younger girl muttered, "That's something, at least." She paused. "Um… I don't mean to be pessimistic, but at this rate, they're going to catch up with us before long. Do we have any kind of plan?"

Elphaba gave her a mildly desperate look.

Myah bit her lip. "Okay then. You found nothing in the Grimmerie? Anything that could help us?"

The green girl thought for a moment and then perked up slightly. "I could hide us for a short while. I know a spell for that."

"Cast it," Myah urged. "At least it will buy us some time to think of a plan."

Elphaba nodded, stopping and reaching out to a tree trunk for support. She leaned against it as she took the Grimmerie from Myah and leafed through the pages until she found the spell she had noticed before. Singing the words, she cast it, hoping it wouldn't take too much out of her.

She felt faint as the magic drained from her and she swayed a little. Myah took hold of her arm, frowning in concern. "Are you all right?"

Elphaba took a moment to analyse how she was feeling and decided that she wasn't going to pass out or fall over, so she said, "I'm fine. It worked. I can't hold it up while we move, though…"

"That's all right," said Myah, helping the other girl sit down on the forest floor. "I think you should rest now, anyway. We'll wait here for a while."

They sat in silence, each girl lost in her own thoughts. Elphaba knew she should be thinking of a plan, somewhere to go from here, but all she could think of was Glinda and Fiyero and what Morrible might do to them. The guilt was crushing, knowing that if she had just stayed away, they would have been safe.

Or would they be? She suddenly wondered about that. If she'd left Fiyero be at Kiamo Ko without returning, Morrible would most likely still have found out he was alive eventually. He'd be in this mess regardless. As for Glinda, the blonde had known from the beginning that what she was doing was incredibly risky, but she'd been raised knowing how evil Morrible was and knowing she had to do everything in her power to stop the hag. That was what her father did and that was what she would do, too.

Fine, so perhaps their current predicament wasn't Elphaba's fault after all, then. Still… She wished she knew of a way to help them. She wasn't sure how much more Fiyero could bear, after all he'd already been through.

Myah spoke softly. "Glinda wanted you to leave Oz."

Elphaba's head whipped around, sending a searing pain through her eye; but aside from flinching, she didn't acknowledge the pain. "What?"

"She said… the mind-shielding spell should protect you from the magical markers Morrible put in place to keep you from leaving, and she wanted you to leave. Well, all of us, probably, but especially you and Fiyero."

Elphaba shook her head – carefully, but firmly. "No," she said, the tone of her voice making it clear she would bear no contradiction. "I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving anyone in this mess. I have to stop her, or find someone who can."

Myah sighed. "Elphaba… What if there is no way to do that? I don't think Glinda is so sure anymore that there is."

"There is," Elphaba insisted. "There is a way, and I will find it if it's the last thing I ever do. Especially now. I'm not leaving either your brother or my best friend in Morrible's hands, Myah." She took a breath. "I'll need your help, though."

"What can we do?" Myah asked wearily. "Didn't you try everything already?"

"I haven't combed out the entire Grimmerie yet," said Elphaba. "It seems to be changing every time I open it… There are new spells sometimes, or existing spells that are slightly different than before. Glinda and I were working on creating an original spell. I can do this. I can find a way. Glin and I were so close already – I just need a safe place to stay while I figure things out."

Myah was quiet for a while. They both listened for footsteps or voices, but none came.

"We could still go to Glinda's parents," the princess offered. "Her father knows about you, doesn't he? I'm sure they'll help us if we tell them the whole story. Especially since it might be the only way to save their daughter."

Elphaba felt a pang at that, wondering what Morrible would do to Glinda and if it wouldn't already be too late for her once Elphaba did find a way to defeat the old hag… or if it wouldn't already be too late for Fiyero. She ignored that, though. There was nothing she could do for them right now but get to someplace safe and start working on a plan. "We could try."

Satisfied with that plan, Myah leaned back against the tree trunk. "How much longer should we stay here? How long does that spell work, anyway?"

"As long as I can keep it up," Elphaba answered. "It's feeding off my magic – not very strongly, but I can't keep it up very much longer. With these injuries… I'm not as strong as I usually am." It frustrated her, more than she would ever let on to this young princess, but again – there was nothing she could do about it.

"I think if they were coming this way, they'd have been here by now," Myah said. "Perhaps we should just go. It's better to keep moving, especially with this cold."

Elphaba hesitated, then nodded. She _was_ very cold and Myah's lips already had a blue tinge to them; besides, staying wasn't any safer than moving. She pushed herself to her feet, concentrated, and lifted the spell. Myah took the Grimmerie from her and slipped under her good arm, supporting her as they began making their way through the forest again painstakingly slowly.

They rested every once in a while, but by nightfall, they still hadn't reached the edge of the forest or seen any place they could spend the night. When it became clear that Elphaba couldn't go on much longer, Myah found a small clearing between the trees and led the green girl there, urging her to sit down.

"I'll go get us some food," she said.

Elphaba blinked at her with her one visible eye. "Shouldn't I come with you? Some berries around here aren't safe to eat, and –"

"Elphaba," Myah cut her off in mild exasperation. "I did live and work with the rebels for over four years. I know how to survive in the forest. I may only be eighteen, but I'm not a little girl."

Elphaba knew how true that was. The princess had narrowly escaped death when she was fourteen years old; she'd already shown to be much more mature than any eighteen-year-old Elphaba had ever known, including herself at that age.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that. And thank you," she added. "For helping me."

Myah softened. "Of course, Elphaba. You saved my life."

"I _spared_ your life," the young witch corrected. "There's a difference." She tilted her head a little to the side. "You never told me how you escaped, all those years ago."

Myah shrugged, as if it didn't matter, although the memory clearly pained her. "There's not much to tell. I was fourteen, I saw my siblings and my parents murdered... At that point, all that really got through to me was that there were people in my house, hurting my family, and that I was angry with them. It was actually thanks to Fiyero that I managed to get away," she admitted, meeting Elphaba's gaze.

That surprised her. "It was? How so?"

Myah swallowed. "He… When they killed Jermain…" She shook her head. "I think that was what broke him," she said softly. "They'd always been so close, Yero really looked up to him, and then to see him so brutally murdered… He completely lost it. Those soldiers had such a hard time trying to restrain him and knocking him out that I didn't really think – I just stomped on the foot of the one holding me, then kicked another one in the groin, and I bolted. I was much smaller than they were, but also quicker, and I knew the castle well. I hid in the gardens, in a spot where I was fairly sure they wouldn't find me; and when they were gone, I fled into the forest. I grew up in the Vinkus; I know all about surviving in the wilderness, so I kept myself alive for a while. I was eventually found and taken in by a group of rebels…" She shrugged again. "… and that brings everything full-circle again."

Elphaba was quiet for a moment before saying softly, "For what it's worth, Myah… I think you've been very brave, especially for someone so young."

Myah smiled. "You were my example, you know? Elphaba Thropp, the green governor's daughter… Fae, the rebel with magic. Many of us looked up to you."

Just hearing the name 'Fae' made Elphaba's heart hurt, but not as much as the other things Myah said. She shook her head. "My magic was never strong enough to be of much use to the rebels," she said bitterly, "and no-one looks up to me now. They all think I turned against them."

"Yes, well, maybe, but you _didn't_ ," Myah insisted. "That's all that matters, what you really did! All those rebels whose lives you saved by not killing them – they won't agree with you that your magic is not of much use and they know you didn't turn against them! Isn't that enough?"

The green girl closed her eyes for a moment, weary. She didn't reply and Myah hesitated, then changed the subject, recognising Elphaba didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Um… I think you should try to cast those healing spells you mentioned earlier."

Elphaba shook her head. "Here? Now? It'll drain me. I won't be able to go on."

"You're unable to go on now," Myah pointed out. "These injuries are hurting you, they're draining your energy, and I don't have anything I can use to tend to them. If you don't heal them yourself, they might get infected or something. Maybe if you just cast those healing spells and we stay here to rest for the night, you'll be able to fly us to Gillikin in the morning, or later tomorrow."

Elphaba bit her lip, clearly thoughtful, and Myah said, "Think about it while I go get some food." She disappeared between the trees.

She was right, Elphaba knew. She couldn't risk her wounds getting infected; it'd take ages for her to recover from that and she didn't have that much time. Glinda and Fiyero didn't have that much time. She had to be back on her feet as soon as possible and perhaps casting her healing spells was the best way to do that, even though she knew it would be extremely painful and very hard on her, physically.

When Myah eventually returned, holding up her skirt, which was filled with fruit and some edible tree bark, Elphaba had made her decision. She ate as much as she could to keep her strength up; and then she settled down on the forest floor, taking a deep breath as she lay back and closed her eyes.

"Don't touch me while I do this," she said to Myah, her eyes still closed. "Don't try to move me or interrupt me while I chant. If anything out of the ordinary appears, like a glow or a light, then stay away from it; and if something happens to me that you can't fix, leave me and get yourself to someplace safe."

Myah nodded reluctantly, clearly beginning to get a little scared now. "What could happen to you?"

Elphaba shrugged with her good shoulder. "I've never tried this on myself before," she admitted. "I wouldn't know. We'll just have to wait and see." With that, she began to chant. She tried not to think too much about how badly this would hurt or what could go wrong; instead, she concentrated on the words of the spells, weaving them together into a song that would hopefully enable her to be of any use again soon.

It began as a burning pain in her shoulder, spreading quickly, and she gritted her teeth in pain as she felt her flesh begin to knit together again – quite literally, and very slowly. Her eyes watered, which in turn made her right eye feel like it was on fire; but even as the tears spilled over, she kept chanting, singing the spell over and over again with her eyes closed, thinking of Fiyero and Glinda and of how she could not let them down. Her voice cracked and she could almost literally feel the energy flow out of her body, but she didn't stop.

It felt like hours later when she finished, exhausted already, but the worst was yet to come. She inhaled slowly and tentatively moved her arm. When that didn't hurt her very much, she rotated her shoulder, a smile coming to her face despite herself when that, too, felt all right – not perfectly fine, but much better at least than before. She exhaled again and opened her good eye to look at Myah, who seemed to be in awe. "That was the easy part."

"Now your eye?" the princess guessed and Elphaba gave a small nod in reply before beginning to chant again – a different spell this time.

She wasn't entirely sure which spells to use for her eye. She'd probably need the same one, at some point, that she had just used for her shoulder, because she'd need to close the gash the knife had made in the skin around her eye. She didn't really know how to heal the eye itself, though. She was improvising, mostly, just making it up as she went along and hoping it would work.

The pain was blinding, even more so than before. She paused for a moment when she realised what she'd just thought. If she hadn't been in so much pain, she'd have smirked at the irony of her own unintentional pun. As it was, it was all she could do to continue chanting the spell. It hurt just as much as the original injury had – maybe more. She was struggling to even stay conscious as the pain got worse, searing and stabbing, and she was gasping for breath. She had no energy left, no breath, and the pain was so much worse than she could possibly have imagined. She would have screamed if she could have, but instead she just continued to chant the spells, her voice hoarse and weak, going on without stopping to think too much about what she was doing or how it felt. Faintly, she heard Myah call worriedly, "Elphaba? Elphaba, stop. It's too much for you right now, you can try again later. Elphaba?"

That was the last thing the young witch heard before she passed out.

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 **And on this note, I will leave you. You probably won't believe it, but I am sorry!**

 **I will be back on Wednesday evening, if all goes to plan. Reviews would make wonderful welcome back presents. :)**


	17. Broken

**Hi guys, I'm back! *chirping crickets* I guess it says something that the moment I start fishing for more reviews, I only get one, huh? :P Well, thank you 18lzytwner! This chapter is not very cheerful... sorry about that. (Well, you know. Sorry, not sorry.)**

 **Malta was amazing, so it's going to take some getting used to, being back in the cold. Fortunately the sun is out today and the weather's not too shabby, which is good. It's always weird to settle back in again after having been away, though!**

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 **Broken**

Five days. For five days, Morrible kept Fiyero in a cell in Southstairs. Five days he sat there without knowing – without hearing any news at all. Where had Glinda been taken? What were they doing to her? Had Elphaba escaped? Had Myah? What was Morrible waiting for?

Morrible had him beaten as punishment for his escape, but he hardly felt it, because he knew much worse things were to come. For five days, he lived in fear, the anticipation possibly even worse than the actual torture. The fear was so strong it never really disappeared, leaving him permanently half monster and half man. He just couldn't seem to calm himself down enough to make the fangs, the claws, and the hair disappear.

It was after those five days that he was brought into the throne room and locked up inside a cage in the corner that looked like it had been built especially for him. He struggled, but he was outnumbered and they managed to get him inside, leaving him helpless. Not much later, Glinda was brought in and he realised the fun was about to begin. The thought made him wince in anticipation.

Glinda gasped upon seeing him, which told him something about how horrible he had to look. There were tears in her eyes when she choked out, "Oh, Fiyero…"

He could say the same thing about her, though. Her dress was ripped and filthy, her hair hung limply around her face and there was a bruise on her cheek. It looked like Morrible hadn't done anything too permanent to her yet, but they both knew she would, eventually. She was just toying with them now.

"Are you all right?" he asked her quietly.

She shrugged a little half-heartedly. "So far," she said with a mirthless little smile. "She just locked me up, she had some of the guards beat me a little… It could have been much worse." It _would_ be much worse, but neither of them said that aloud. "What about you?"

"I'll live," he said wryly and she nodded, understanding.

The hag herself appeared, then, and she smiled smugly upon seeing the both of them. "Hello there, dearies," she said casually, sitting down on the throne and folding her hands. She leaned forward. "You are probably wondering why you're here, aren't you?"

Fiyero didn't say anything. Neither did Glinda.

Morrible chuckled. "Oh, don't worry." Her eyes gleamed. "I won't hurt you… yet. Not much, anyway. Not until I have my Huntress back."

Fiyero's eyes flashed and Glinda said hotly, "You'll never catch Elphie!"

"Watch me," she said. "I have the best bait in Oz, after all. She'll never leave you both in my hands if she can help it. You two are my prisoners. Princess Myah has been eliminated. Now I only need Elphaba back and then my revenge will be complete."

At her words, Fiyero went cold all over and it felt as if his heart stopped beating for a brief moment. "What?" he asked, his voice shaking.

She smirked at him. "Didn't I tell you, Your Highness?" she asked. "We captured your sister in the woods, not long after we found you and Glinda. She never got far. Elphaba managed to escape us, but she won't be flying free for long before she'll come here to rescue you – if it comes to that, anyway. She's not in any condition to do any rescuing right now, I can tell you that." Her eyes gleamed. "It's more likely we'll find her dead body somewhere in the woods one of these days."

"No…" Glinda whispered and Fiyero fought the tears welling in his eyes, but to no avail.

"You killed my _sister_?!" he choked out.

Morrible snorted. "She should have died five years ago, along with the rest of your family. Be glad you got to see her one last time."

He looked desperately at Glinda, who whispered, "She might be lying. She might just say these things to manipulate us." She didn't look convinced, though. He wasn't convinced, either, but he clung to the hope that she could be right.

Morrible turned. "Now, I have some things to attend to. Come with me, Glinda, dear." She made a gesture with her hand and it was as if Glinda's eyes suddenly went blank. Fiyero watched in horror as she meekly followed Morrible without further protest, no emotion showing on her face.

She controlled them both, he realised bitterly. Literally, with her magic, but also emotionally and physically, by keeping them here and telling them these things, by torturing them… She had them both completely in her power and there was nothing they could do about that.

He curled up in a corner of his cage and grieved for his sister. He didn't care that the people of the court could see him cry; he'd lost all semblance of dignity a long time ago. He could only think about the fact that Myah had been killed after all and how much that felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest all over again. He'd barely had the chance to talk to her, to hug her… All these years, he'd thought she was dead, and now at last she really was. Had she suffered? Had she been in pain or had it been quick? Would he ever know the answers to those questions?

And then there was Elphaba. Beautiful, brave Elphaba, who thought he wouldn't love her anymore because of the scars now marring her face. He knew Morrible was right – when he'd last seen her, she'd been in no position to do much of anything. He'd been so relieved she'd gotten away, but how far had she come? If she did come to rescue him and Glinda, she'd get herself killed, so where did that leave them?

Morrible left him there for a few more days, not paying attention to him at all. Every day, though, he watched her manipulate Glinda and it made him feel sick to his stomach. The blonde wandered the palace looking like a ghost, always obediently standing beside Morrible in the throne room, hardly saying a word unless Morrible made her. He heard that Morrible use her status as a public figure to bring her out in front of the people and speech about Elphaba's betrayal, urging the people to find her; and about the new laws Morrible would be passing soon, further restricting the Ozians in their movements and cementing her control over them. By making it appear as if Glinda supported all this, he knew Morrible hoped to appease the public. The worst thing was that he knew it would probably work.

On the seventh day after his capture, Morrible came up to his cage and regarded him for a while through narrowed eyes, head tilted slightly to the side. "It's about time you make yourself useful again," she said and with that, she turned him into a monster once more. He didn't remember what she made him do, but he could guess, from the blood staining his lips when he changed back. He was back to being used as a means to execute innocent people and there was nothing he could do about it.

On the twelfth day, she was smirking maliciously, looking immensely pleased with herself, which instantly made him wary. "You're in for a treat this time, dearie," she said smugly, right before raising her hand and making him change once more.

It didn't seem so much different from all the other times she'd done this to him. Not at first, anyway. There were flashes – of hunger, of blood, of screaming – but as always, he didn't consciously experience anything that happened. There were lots of cries and he was aware of sinking his teeth into flesh at some point, rage blinding him completely. It was a rage that wasn't his, but it controlled him nonetheless and he was powerless to stop it. It was always like that when Morrible took over and it never failed to terrify him because it meant he had no control over his own actions. He had no idea what he did, or to whom, until it was over.

When he changed back, he was panting, shivering all over, with the taste of blood in his mouth. It made him feel nauseous. What had he done? What had she made him do this time? Did he even want to know?

"The ultimate revenge," she said softly and he whipped his head around to face her. She was closer than he'd thought, standing just a few steps away from his cage, looking down at something on the floor. She was smiling, which made the hair on the back of his neck rise. Morrible smiling was never a good thing.

She raised her gaze to meet his and her smile widened. "Now look what you've done, Prince Fiyero," she tutted, pretending to be disapproving, but there was a glimmer in her eye. "After all this time, it's over. I finally have her. Or maybe I should say that _you_ have had her."

He hardly dared to look after that, but he did. He couldn't help himself. Her words stirred a desperate fear in him and he prayed that what he thought she was saying wasn't what she was really saying, but then he saw what Morrible had been looking down at and it felt like a crushing weight suddenly fell down on him. Because there, on the floor, at her feet, was a heap of black fabric and blood – so much blood… and then he saw the black hair and, worst of all, the green skin.

His stomach turned and he got so dizzy that for a moment, he thought he might faint. Because it was Elphaba, lying there at Morrible's feet, and there was so much blood… She wasn't moving. Deep down, he already knew no-one could survive losing that much blood.

"It's a shame, really," said Morrible, nudging the green girl with her foot. "She could have been a great Huntress, if she had only obeyed me." She smirked at Fiyero. "It's a pity you can't remember the look on her face when you tore her to pieces," she said gleefully, clearly revelling in his guilt and grief. "It was really quite priceless. I'm sure she thought she could stop you. Perhaps she even thought that your 'love' was enough to keep you from hurting her." Her voice was mocking. "How wrong she was. She should have known better, after last time."

Fiyero, however, barely heard a word she said. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Elphaba for the longest time, and when he finally did, it was to retch in the corner of his cage, doubling over as his body rebelled against the sight of the girl he loved, viciously murdered by his own teeth and claws. When he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, he realised her blood was still under his nails and he could still taste it, too. He wasn't sure the taste would ever disappear from his mouth again.

Morrible was still smirking and she gestured towards some of the guards nearby, who came over and unceremoniously scooped up Elphaba's remains, taking her away. Fiyero screamed for them to stop, and he screamed her name, but the guards didn't pull a muscle and Morrible only cackled.

"Don't you want to know how I finally got my hands on her, dearie?" she asked gleefully as she sat down on her throne and crossed her legs, laying the tips of her fingers against one another.

He didn't, of course, but he knew she would tell him anyway. All he could do was sob, now, and he turned away from her, which he already knew would be of no use. He was right.

She continued. "I was right," she said. "She came here. She thought she could rescue you and Glinda and instead, she was captured herself." She looked at him. "She came for you," she said. "I told you it would be like this, didn't I? She came here to save you and you killed her."

He knew what she was trying to do, but that didn't mean that what she was doing wasn't working. She was trying to make him feel guilty – and she was succeeding, because it _was_ his fault. If he hadn't gotten captured, she'd have never come here. _He_ had murdered her and free will or not, that wasn't something he would ever be able to forgive himself for. His family had been murdered, his little sister was dead, and now Morrible had made him kill the only girl in the world he had ever loved. After all this time, years of torture and fear and loneliness, he realised bitterly that she had, at last, managed to break him.


	18. Stronger

**Your reviews made me laugh.**

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 **Stronger**

Leora Upland stood at the window of the small cottage's main room, watching the two young women in the forest outside. Sometimes, from the corner of her eye, she mistook the Vinkun princess's dark blonde hair for her daughter's golden locks; and each time she realised it was not her Glinda, her heart gave a painful squeeze.

Still, if she couldn't help Glinda, she would at least help her friends. She knew her husband felt the same way. Not just because they fought for the same cause, either; any friend of Glinda's had always been welcomed to the Uplands' home warmly and Leora knew that Elphaba was the closest friend her daughter had ever had. Perhaps, by helping her, they could help Glinda, too, however indirectly.

It was obvious that Elphaba and Myah had been through a lot. When the butler had called Geoffren and Leora to the door, they'd found the two girls there, exhausted and battered, begging them for help. Myah's eyes had been dull, her shoulders slumped; Elphaba had a nasty scar across her right eye and a haunted look on her face. They looked like soldiers returned from battle. How could they refuse?

It had been no surprise when they had told Geoffren and Leora that their daughter had helped them and that she had in turn been discovered and captured by Madame Morrible. They knew about Elphaba from Glinda's letters, so it hadn't really surprised them, either, when the green girl had promised them fervently that she would find a way to return their daughter to them or that she would die trying. They had been grateful, though. They still were. They only hoped that Elphaba wouldn't _actually_ die trying or all they had been trying to accomplish before had been for nothing.

Since Morrible now knew that Glinda had never truly been on her side, the Uplands decided to temporarily retreat to one of the many shelters the rebels had set up around Oz before the Gale Force came to imprison or kill them as well. Upon arriving there, Elphaba had delved straight into finding a solution. The first three days, she'd spent holed up in the room she'd been given to share with Myah, poring over the Grimmerie. Geoffren had offered her free usage of the books on magic he had collected in his small library over the years and which he had brought especially for this reason; and she'd made grateful usage of that. They sent trays of food to her, but they mostly came back untouched; Leora wasn't sure the girl had even slept.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, she'd come running into the room when the Uplands and Myah were having lunch. She'd looked terrible – uncombed hair, circles under her eyes, pale green skin – but her dark eyes were burning as she'd exclaimed, "I've got it!"

And she had. Geoffren had gone over it with her, as had Myah, and neither of them had found fault in the plan – beyond the obvious problem, that was. Based on her and Glinda's research, along with some more information she'd found in Geoffren's books, Elphaba had written spell to break through the magical barriers Morrible had around herself. If Elphaba could get close enough, she'd have her, or at least she'd be able to engage the woman in a fair fight.

Unfortunately, there were two catches. One was that once a person began to cast the spell, he or she had to finish it or it would turn on the caster of the spell instead. The other was that the caster of the spell could not be under the influence of any kind of spell herself, which was where their problem came in.

"She'll control you," Myah pointed out the obvious. "The moment she sees you, she'll invade your mind and render you powerless. You'll be in Southstairs before you can so much as open your mouth to cast the spell."

"I know that," Elphaba snapped, running her fingers through her tangled hair in frustration. "I know that. I can't keep this mind-shielding spell on me and I can't go in without it. This is the best solution we've found so far, though, and I'm not willing to give up on it yet."

When she'd eventually come into the main room again with the others, still brooding, Leora had decided to take matters into her own hands. "Elphaba," she said, gently but firmly. "Why don't you go upstairs and take a bath? I'll have some dinner made for you and after you eat, I think you should go and have a good night's sleep. You look like you need it."

Elphaba had begun to splutter, protesting that she needed to get on with this, but Leora had been firm. "That was not a request, Elphaba," she said sternly. "You'll be of no help to either my daughter or the prince if you break down from lack of food or sleep. I want you to eat and I want you to rest. After that, you can continue searching for a way to solve all this."

The dark-haired witch had looked a bit sheepish and finally, she'd nodded. "All right," she conceded. She made a face. "I suppose I really do need a bath, don't I?"

Leora said matter-of-factly, "No offence, dear, but yes. You really do."

The girl had laughed ruefully. "Glinda would be horrified to see me running around like this. I guess it's not hard to see where she got that from."

Leora smiled sadly at the mention of her daughter and watched Elphaba leave the room again. A couple of hours later, she'd bathed, she'd finished a plate of dinner, and she was fast asleep in her bed.

When Leora returned to the main room after checking up on Elphaba, it was to find Myah and Geoffren bent over some pieces of paper and she sighed. "Are you two starting now? Do I need to make you bathe, eat, and sleep, too?"

"We're just trying to help Elphaba," Myah explained, her cheeks reddening a little. "We want to help."

Leora smiled reassuringly. "I know, dear. Don't worry." She moved over to where they were sitting and glanced at the papers. "Did you find anything?"

"Not so far," Geoffren muttered distractedly as he penned something down.

Myah sighed, leaning back in her chair. "There's just no way we can think of for Elphaba to be able to get close enough to Morrible without that old hag taking over her mind," she said unhappily. "If she gets her hands on Elphaba, all will be lost."

"Isn't there some way she could train her mind?" Leora asked, thinking out loud. "Can't she learn to withstand Madame Morrible's magic without the spell she's been using to protect her mind?"

Myah and Geoffren exchanged a look.

"It could work," Geoffren mused. "The mind can be a strong weapon – and the spell doesn't say anything about natural magic. Elphaba can't use a spell to protect herself, but if she can learn to draw from her raw magic to strengthen her mind… It could work."

Myah looked excited. "This could be it!"

Leora smiled at her enthusiasm, but it was a sad smile. "I hope it works," she said quietly. "I hope we'll be on time."

Myah's excitement faded at once and she lowered her eyes, her mood turning sombre. "Sometimes I wish I knew what she's doing to them," she confessed, "and at other times, I think I probably don't even want to know."

Leora nodded. She understood.

"After what she did to Elphaba…" The blonde girl trailed off. "It's just… She's capable of anything. Anything at all, and sometimes I can't help but wonder… Is she torturing him? Mentally, or physically… or both? Is she using him again, turning him into a monster and making him do things against his will? Is she keeping him locked up in the dungeons below the palace? Or is he already dead?"

Leora was shocked to hear this. She hadn't known what Morrible had done to Fiyero before, although she'd understood that he had been held captive for a while. She didn't let her shock show, though, because there was a stray tear now making its way down the princess's face and Leora pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Myah with a sympathetic smile.

"He'll be all right, dear," she murmured. "They both will be. They made it this far."

Myah smiled a little through her tears. "I know." She dabbed her cheeks dry and took a deep breath. "But still."

Geoffren, who had listened in silence, now spoke up. "Elphaba's eye…" he began hesitantly. "I didn't want to ask her directly, but I do wonder… Did Madame Morrible do that, too?"

Myah nodded. "And that was just the most recent way she tortured her," she said bitterly. "She's done awful things to Elphaba, to Fiyero… She had my entire family butchered and made me and Fiyero watch as her soldiers killed them. She tried to have me killed, too. That is why we need a fool-proof plan," she explained, looking from Geoffren to Leora and back. "She can control people through her magic. She's done it to Fiyero for a while and to Elphaba, too, a _lot_ , and… and when she discovered Elphaba's betrayal, that's how she punished her. She had her cut straight across her own eye." She shuddered a little at the thought. She couldn't help but be grateful that she hadn't actually been present to watch it happen. "She healed it with magic, and it should come to look a bit better, in time, but it'll never fully heal and she seems pretty sure she'll never see with that eye again."

Leora looked horrified and Geoffren pondered this new information. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he thought Elphaba was probably right. He'd noticed before that the iris of her right eye had gone completely white, with a milky film across it. The scar across her face was thick, ropey, and a purplish colour; it would probably heal further, but it would always be visible. He suddenly admired the way the green girl had handled everything thrown her way. She'd been through a lot, but she hadn't given up.

When they talked through the plan with Elphaba once she awoke, she was cautiously optimistic, but she saw a problem the Uplands and Myah had not realised.

"How can I train my mind if there's nothing or no-one to attack it?" she asked logically. "There's no way to test if I'm doing it right."

Geoffren's face fell. Myah bit her lip. Leora sighed.

Then Myah perked up. "Wait. That spell you told me you and Glinda used? When you were trying to see if that original mind-shielding spell worked?"

Elphaba's face lit up. "Glinda cast that spell to try to control me..."

"But none of us have magic," Leora protested.

"No," Geoffren agreed, looking thoughtful. "Most spells, however, can be cast even by people without magical abilities and still be effective – perhaps not fully, but partially, at least. I've seen it before."

"It's something," said Elphaba. "I can't think of any other way."

"Would it be strong enough?" Myah demanded. "If we don't have magic?"

"It wouldn't be as strong as if Morrible does it," Elphaba acknowledged, "but that's a risk I'm going to have to take. I can teach you to pronounce the words; I can practise with you, all three of you if necessary… that should be enough. Don't you think?"

She sounded so hopeful, Leora didn't have the heart to say no. She _did_ think it sounded like a good plan, but so much could still go wrong.

And now here they were, days later, and Leora was watching the two girls practise in the forest surrounding their temporary home. Elphaba had deactivated her mind-shielding spell and was trying to resist Myah's attempts to control her with nothing but her own willpower, but it was obviously hard on the green girl. Leora had noticed her improve significantly since she had first started, but she was still a long way off from actually being able to resist Morrible, which frustrated her.

Geoffren came up behind his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Are you all right?"

She smiled a little sadly, her gaze never straying from Elphaba and Myah. "It's strange to think that Elphaba is our only hope," she murmured, watching the green girl. "I know she'll do whatever it takes to free Glinda – and Fiyero – but I can't help but wonder… what if it won't be enough?"

"Then we'll try to find another way," Geoffren said firmly. "We've been fighting for so long already... We won't stop until Morrible is gone."

"Or until _we_ are gone," his wife said matter-of-factly. She turned to face him. "She'll find out what we've been doing sooner or later. You know that. And once she does, we'll end up just like the Vinkun royals, or the Munchkin governor and his daughter – Elphaba's family. You know it can never end well, Geoffren."

"I know." He rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. "We can only hope we'll find a way to stop Morrible before that."

Geoffren worried about the same things as his wife, even though he didn't let that on to her because he didn't want to scare her further. He was mainly worried about his daughter at the moment, though. A couple of days after Elphaba and Myah had arrived at the mansion, when they'd still been there, Glinda had begun appearing in public again and the first time Geoffren and Leora heard about that, they had been ecstatic. Elphaba, however, was the one pointing out the blank look in Glinda's eyes in the picture of the blonde girl that had been printed in the papers.

"She would never say these things," she said firmly. "Look at this – she's fully supporting Morrible in everything she does, convinced it's for the good of all of Oz? There's no way she'd do this. Morrible has her in her clutches." The look in her eyes had been sad and it had made the Uplands fear the worst.

Geoffren had been the one to ask the question. "Do you think… Would she hurt her?"

Elphaba had hesitated, then shook her head. "I don't know," she'd said truthfully. "Not badly… not visibly. But there are worse kinds of hurt than the physical kind and there's no way of telling what she's doing to Glinda. Having your mind completely controlled by someone is an awful enough feeling in itself," she'd added quietly, speaking from experience, and Geoffren and Leora had understood.

Outside, Elphaba began to move towards Myah with slightly jerky movements. The blonde girl stepped back, breaking the connection between them, and Elphaba cried out in frustration. "I'm never going to get this right!"

Leora turned away from the window, unable to help the tears filling her eyes, and she allowed Geoffren to hold her in an attempt to bring her some comfort. She desperately hoped that Elphaba was wrong; because if the green girl couldn't get it right, then her daughter would be lost forever – and so, most likely, would the rest of Oz.

* * *

 **I'm glad I haven't turned predictable yet, although I'm a little surprised some of you actually expected me to murder Elphaba in such a brutal way - I'm not _that_ cruel, am I?! (No need to respond - that was rhetorical.)**

 **Also, if you haven't done so already, don't forget to nominate your favourite Wicked fics for the Greg Awards! Fae'sFlower is hosting again this year and there are only five days left, so go and hand in your nominations before December 1st!**


	19. Never Stop Fighting

**A bit of a short chapter, because this cliffy opportunity was too good to pass up.**

* * *

 **Never Stop Fighting**

Over the course of the next few weeks, Elphaba practised until she almost literally collapsed with exhaustion. The headache all this practice was giving her trumped all headaches she'd ever had in her life – all natural ones, anyway, because those inflicted by Morrible were still worse – but she couldn't give up. She kept thinking of Glinda and Fiyero and she pressed on.

Her wounds were still bothering her. Her shoulder was mostly healed, but it hurt when she moved it too much or accidentally lay on it while she slept. It also ached when the weather was cold or wet and the joint often felt stiff. She tried to ignore it whenever she could, pushing on despite the pain. There was no time, no room for weakness. When she'd eventually face Morrible, she couldn't allow herself to be distracted by pain, either.

As for her eye, the scar across her face stung and although the eye itself did not hurt much anymore, only being able to see with one eye took some getting used to. It was difficult to see depth and she often misjudged heights or distances, which frustrated her to no end. She spent hours and hours trying to hit a tree with a beam of energy, but she always missed. Her aim had been immaculate before and she couldn't help but think that if she couldn't even properly hit Morrible with raw magic now, how would she ever be able to do anything more to the old hag? She didn't stand a chance.

Myah, however, remained annoyingly optimistic and continued to push the dark-haired witch forward, using any means. When she found Elphaba collapsed in hysterical sobs in the forest at some point, wailing that she could never do this, the blonde girl showed no sympathy whatsoever.

"That," she said, gritting her teeth, her blue eyes flaming, "is my brother in that woman's clutches, Elphaba. That is your best friend and the man you love. Are you giving up on them?" she spat. "Really? I'd expected better of you."

It was exactly what Elphaba needed, of course, for her temper to flare; and when Myah kept pushing her, her magic burst out, singeing every tree in sight. The princess was a bit shocked at that, but it gave Elphaba the confidence she needed to continue.

Geoffren approached her outside when she was practising one day, just when she was hissing and muttering to herself in frustration again, and he cleared his throat. "Elphaba."

Her shoulders slumped as she turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Do you have some time to talk?" he asked her and she nodded, following him back to the house. As they walked, he lightly touched her shoulder and said, "Don't be too hard on yourself. You'll get it."

"I will," she agreed miserably. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her waist. "But will I get it in time for me to save them?"

He had nothing he could say to that. "You're doing the best you can," he tried, but he knew that wasn't of any comfort to her and he was right.

She snorted. "If my best isn't enough, though, then it doesn't really matter." She shook her head. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"You're familiar with Morrible and the palace," he said as they entered the cottage and he led her to the table in the corner of the room. He sat down and motioned for her to take a seat as well. He pushed some papers and a pencil in her direction. "Could you draw up a list of her supporters – her _real_ supporters, not the ones she's manipulating? And perhaps draw me an impression of the lay-out of the palace? Glinda secretly managed to send me one, once, but it's been a while since then and I like to be well-prepared."

"In case I don't succeed," said Elphaba, understanding. "So you can think of a back-up plan."

He nodded, holding her gaze. "It's not that I don't have faith in you," he said and she believed him. "As I said, though, I like to be well-prepared. Just in case something goes wrong… we'd still need to try to deal with Morrible ourselves, if you can't do it."

"I understand." She did. Besides, drawing maps and making lists was something she could do – something she wouldn't fail miserably at. It felt good to be doing something to help that actually could make a difference, because it often felt like her efforts to master her magic weren't paying off at all and it was as if she could feel the clock ticking. With every moment, every hour, every day, Morrible was probably doing terrible things to her best friend and to the man she loved and she couldn't help but feel like it was all her fault.

Still, after spending the rest of the day working on the drawing and the list, she felt a bit calmer. Geoffren seemed to know this, from the smile he gave her at dinner, and she said simply, "Thank you."

"Sometimes it helps to take your mind off things and do something else for a while," he said. "You can return to your problems with a fresh outlook."

She nodded. She hesitated for a moment, but then asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue for a while now. "What if I can't save Glinda?" she blurted out.

Geoffren stilled. He slowly put down his cutlery and looked over to his wife, who had gone a little paler than usual. Then he looked back at Elphaba and said calmly, "She knew the risks when she agreed to be sent to the City three years ago, Elphaba. She is my daughter and of course we want nothing more than for you to be able to save her, but above all else, you need to stop Morrible. No matter the cost. Even if that cost is our only daughter."

Leora let out a choked sound at that and Geoffren reached out to take her hand, but he didn't take back his words and she didn't protest them. Elphaba stared at them, wondering how hard it had to be to acknowledge aloud that your own child, your only child, wasn't the most important thing in the world; but she understood.

"Stopping Morrible is about all of Oz," Myah said softly, also understanding. "Not just about saving Glinda and Fiyero."

Geoffren nodded. "We aren't just helping you because you're our daughter's best friend," he explained to Elphaba. "We're helping you as a fellow rebel against Morrible's regime."

In a twisted way, that made sense to her, because she knew what it was like to put her cause before anything else. She briefly thought of her father, of her sister, and then resolutely pushed those memories away. Even though she knew she would always, _always_ feel guilty about their deaths, she also knew that her attempts to stop Morrible had been more important than even her family. If she hadn't done anything then, they'd have ended up dead eventually, too; and if she didn't do anything now, there was not a doubt in her mind that she would lose Glinda and Fiyero both. The least she could do was try.

And so she tried. After dinner, she pulled Myah back out into the forest and continued to practise shielding and strengthening her mind, trying to stop the princess from controlling her and to break free of that control when Myah's spell did take hold of her. She threw herself into practising magic with renewed energy, fighting to become stronger as soon as possible, because every day she left them with Morrible was a day too many.

Leora gently urged the young witch to rest more and take care of herself every now and then whilst Elphaba was determined to do whatever it took. She practised, cast spells, and aimed her magic; she made Myah try to control her and she tried to resist that control. The first time she succeeded, she was so giddy she actually bounced a little, which made Myah laugh. They were all relieved; at least now they could tell Elphaba was getting somewhere.

She wasn't easily satisfied, however. She continued to work on her aim until she could hit her mark almost every time – not as good as before she'd lost sight in her right eye, but much better than she'd thought she could get in such a short space of time. Once she learnt to resist Myah's mind control, she dragged Geoffren outside and had them practise it on her together. Then she pulled in Leora as well and tried to remain immobile while the three of them together attempted to force her to move forward.

Finally, she managed to stay still even when they used the spell on her, but even then she continued and she tried to do the exact opposite of what they were trying to make her do. When the three of them tried to make her step forward, she tried to step back. It was harder than anything she'd ever done in her life; after each session, she was completely breathless, sweat running down her back, and she felt as if she'd been wrung out almost literally; but her efforts paid off when at last, she declared herself ready.

"Are you sure?" Leora asked anxiously.

Elphaba knew what she was thinking. She only had one chance. If it went wrong, if she couldn't resist Morrible, all was lost. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she was sure that she couldn't leave Fiyero and Glinda in Morrible's hands any longer than she already had. The longer she waited, the bigger the chance that she would be too late to save them.

And so she said, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be. There's nothing more I can do to prepare." She lowered her eyes. "All we can do now is hope that it's been enough."

* * *

Fiyero was exhausted.

They didn't let him sleep. Every time he started to drift off, the guards banged the bars of his cage, forcing him awake again. They took pleasure in taunting him and keeping him from getting any sleep at all, slowly driving him mad – if his sister's death and his own murder of Elphaba hadn't already done that. He hadn't seen Glinda again, either… or not the real Glinda, anyway. Every time she passed through the throne room, she looked like a ghost, eyes blank and empty as if there was no-one inside of her, but he knew better. Morrible was in her head and it didn't look like she let the blonde girl go for even a clock-tick.

He tried not to think, but thoughts and images came unbidden to his mind. The heap of black fabric and green skin and blood that was the last thing he'd ever seen of Elphaba. The look on Myah's face when he'd first laid eyes on her again after years of each of them thinking the other person dead. His brother Jermain's bright blue eyes, so like his own. The things he and Elphaba had talked about during those months they'd spent together at Kiamo Ko. That night in Southstairs, so long ago, when they'd talked and she'd already been so defeated, but she'd still been determined to fight. Sometimes he thought that they had probably been broken back then already; they just hadn't known it yet.

And then, one day, Glinda was there.

"Oh, Fiyero!" she whispered, hurrying over to his cage. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was evening; darkness had fallen not long before and Morrible had left for the day. The guards at the door to the room were minding their own business, leaving him alone for once. When the blonde knelt in front of him, he could see the sparkle in her eyes and he knew it was really her.

"I know what she told you," she whispered urgently, reaching through the bars with one of her hands. He grasped it firmly, grateful to have something, anything, to hold on to. "But it isn't true, Fiyero. She's not dead. She's here."

He stared at her uncomprehendingly and she swore softly, glancing over her shoulder at the guards and then back at him. "Sweet Oz, what did she do to you? Fiyero." She gave his arm a little shake. "Elphaba is alive. You didn't kill her. I know she made it look like you did, but I was there, Fiyero. It was a different prisoner. Of course that's still awful, but it wasn't her. Morrible magic-spelled this woman's skin to look green and she purposefully led you to believe you killed Elphaba, but Elphie never came here. Not until now. Do you hear what I'm saying?"

All the blood had drained from his face and Glinda worried for a moment that he might faint. She'd felt that way herself, too, when Elphaba had come into her rooms and lifted Morrible's control over her friend with a few chanted words, forcing her to cast the mind-shielding spell on herself before explaining everything. They'd talked briefly; Glinda had told the green girl what Morrible had done to her and where Fiyero was and Elphaba had asked her to warn him while she went in search of the old hag.

"She came to me," Glinda said, continuing to talk in the hopes of getting through to the prince. "She came to my rooms and she freed me, and she's going to free you, too. She says she's found a way. She and Myah and my parents – they all worked together. Myah isn't dead, either, Fiyero. They're alive, both of them. Listen." She squeezed his arm comfortingly. "I know she made you do horrible things, but you can get out of here now. I need you to pull yourself together. If not for yourself or for me, then for Elphie. We have to be ready."

He shook his head, still confused. "She's alive?" he whispered incredulously, hardly daring to hope.

"They both are," Glinda confirmed. She glanced at the guards again. They were still at the door, but one of them was looking over at her and she looked at Fiyero. "Try to act like nothing's changed," she instructed quietly, "but be ready. She's coming to get us out of here."

Just then, however, Morrible swept into the room, grinning widely. "Don't get your hopes up, dearies," she sang, making a beckoning movement. Behind her, Elphaba followed her into the room, her face blank as she obediently shuffled after Morrible with jerky movements, completely under the older witch's control.


	20. Facing Morrible

**Voting for the Greg Awards has started, so go over to Fae'sFlower's profile and vote for your favourite stories now!**

 **Satilliteheart: How many chapters until Fiyeraba is back together... Let me answer that at the AN at the bottom. How many chapters in total... After this one, I have three more pre-written, but I still haven't finished this whole story, so I need to do that pretty quickly now. Oops.**

* * *

 **Facing Morrible**

Glinda cried, "No!" with such despair in her voice that it took Elphaba every bit of self-control to keep her face neutral and to not react to her friend in any way. She refused to look at Fiyero or to acknowledge Glinda. For this to work, she needed to be under Morrible's spell, at least for a little while.

She never thought she'd one day voluntarily allow the woman to invade her mind, but when she'd encountered Morrible in the hallways, she'd been surrounded by guards; Elphaba wouldn't have stood a chance by herself. That was why she'd let the hag take over and lead her to the throne room, where the woman now turned around and dismissed the guards. The difference was that now, Elphaba was strong enough to break Morrible's control over her… or so she hoped, because it was obvious that Morrible was much stronger than even Myah, Geoffren, and Leora combined. She had the element of surprise, though. She hoped it'd be enough.

Morrible looked at Fiyero gleefully. From the corners of her eyes, Elphaba noticed that he had changed significantly, more animal than man now.

"I do apologise for lying to you, Prince Fiyero," Morrible purred. "It was effective, though, wasn't it? And it wasn't _really_ a lie. Because once I've finished with this filthy, treacherous little witch," she spat in Elphaba's direction, "I think I'll let you tear her apart after all. Wouldn't that be nice?"

He growled and even without looking at him, Elphaba could hear the despair in his voice. She wasn't sure what Morrible had done to him, exactly; but Glinda had told her some things and the mere thought of those things turned her stomach. He'd feel awful about them, she knew, even though it wasn't his fault.

She contemplated her options. Once she broke free and began casting the spell, she had to finish the entire thing or the spell would turn on her instead and that wasn't really what she had in mind. She knew, though, that Morrible would do everything in her power to try and prevent her from casting a spell. She needed a distraction.

Fiyero provided one, although she was certain it was unintentional. Morrible taunted him by taunting Elphaba herself; she circled the green girl, smirking. "Oh, my, doesn't that look painful?" she mused, brushing a finger along the gash across Elphaba's eye. "I hadn't finished with that, had I? She'll look much better with her other eye cut, too."

Despite herself, even despite Morrible's control over her, Elphaba had to suppress a shudder at the thought.

"And as I recall," Morrible purred, "I do believe I also promised my men some more fun with the little witch."

Like before, that did it – Elphaba thought that Morrible really should have known better than to say these things in Fiyero's presence again after what happened last time. With a roar, he shifted fully and he gripped the bars of his cage. Morrible laughed at first, but she quickly stopped when he bent the bars, pulling them apart until the gap was big enough for him to push through. Then he advanced on her.

Elphaba didn't allow herself to fear for him. This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for and she couldn't let it go to waste. She concentrated, with all her might; and as she broke the control Morrible had over her, it felt like cobwebs were suddenly cleared away from her brain and she instantly started chanting, not wasting any time.

Morrible's head whipped around and she shouted, "No!", but Fiyero was still advancing on her and she had nowhere to go. The guards at the door came running, of course. It didn't do Morrible much good, though, because Fiyero brushed them aside as easily as one would brush aside a fly. They crashed against the wall and did not move again.

Morrible's eyes flicked back and forth between Elphaba and Fiyero and she seemed to make a decision. She backed up towards the wall and grabbed one of the ornamental swords hanging there, pointing it at Fiyero in an attempt to defend herself. At the same time, the full power of her magic crashed down onto Elphaba's mind.

She cried out, unable to help herself. The pain was terrible; the attempts to control her even more so. She had to grit her teeth and throw everything she had in her against Morrible, focusing on keeping the woman out of her head while at the same time continuing to chant the spell. If she stopped, she would die – and so would her friends. She couldn't stop.

Her cry had drawn Fiyero's attention for a moment and he tried to get to her, but Morrible lunged at him with her sword and he withdrew a little, growling. The hag's eyes narrowed as she looked at the beast before her, then at the witch trying to kill her, and then at Glinda, standing wide-eyed behind her friends. A look of triumph crossed her face as she kept her gaze on Glinda. However, nothing happened.

Glinda smiled innocently. "Mind-shielding spell, Madame," she said, tapping her temple with one finger. "Elphie is too strong, Fiyero is too far gone, and I am protected too well for you to control. What will you do now?"

Morrible howled, "Guards!" and threw herself into her magic again, forcing it upon Elphaba's mind – not to control it this time, but to destroy it. A blinding pain seared through the young witch's head, her wounds burned, and she felt like she was about to explode; but she didn't stop. She was almost finished now. It was almost over. She only had to resist Morrible a little longer.

She was vaguely aware of the door to the throne room opening and guards shouting at one another as they streamed into the room, but Fiyero growled at them and their beloved Glinda the Good was shrieking for them to grab Morrible, which left them confused and unsure of what to do. Two of them moved over to Glinda, but she hissed and shook her head. "I'm fine! Take Morrible!" she ordered.

They hesitated. One of them said dubiously, "Your Goodness –"

He was cut off when Morrible suddenly rushed forward, dodging Fiyero, and stormed over to Elphaba. There was a mad look in her eyes as she raised the sword, ready to plunge it into the green girl's chest. Elphaba barely saw her coming through the blinding pain, but she leapt aside just in time. The power of Morrible's mind was overwhelming, but if she gave in now, Morrible would win. She couldn't let that happen.

Glinda and Fiyero reached the old witch at the same time. Fiyero hit her in the side, sending her flying away from Elphaba, but she was back on her feet too soon and she came running back again. This time, however, when Fiyero moved in front of Elphaba to protect her, snarling, she instead changed direction at the final moment and roughly pushed the blade of her sword far into Glinda's stomach.

Elphaba broke off her spell at that, realising what was happening even through the haze of pain she was in, and she screamed. "No! You monster!" She tried to get to Morrible, but Fiyero remained between them. Morrible yanked the sword back out. Glinda, slumping to the floor, gasped her friend's name.

"Elphie," she breathed. "Finish the spell."

Elphaba looked at her helplessly.

"It'll kill you if you don't," the blonde insisted, her voice horribly weak. "Do it."

Elphaba gave her a minute nod and continued chanting the final words of the spell, finishing it. The pressure in her head suddenly disappeared when Morrible's magic was sucked out of her and the green girl groaned as her mind was released from the old woman's attempts to control her. She collapsed onto the ground, dizzy and disoriented. Morrible hissed and cursed, struggling back to her feet, her sword still in her hand. It was wet with Glinda's blood and it made Elphaba feel sick just to look at it. She couldn't let her friend die. She'd sought sanctuary with Glinda's parents, she'd promised them she'd bring back their daughter… alive, not dead. Glinda was her best friend. She'd saved her life. She had to do the same thing for her now.

She crawled over to the blonde, completely ignoring Morrible. Glinda had other ideas, however. "Elphie, stop," she rasped, anxiously glancing at the woman behind her friend.

Elphaba looked over her shoulder and, eyes burning, concentrated. When she shot her magical energy at Morrible, her aim was good – not perfect, but good. It hit Morrible in the side, sending her toppling to the floor once more.

The guards made up their minds at that and ran towards Elphaba and Glinda. "Step away from Her Goodness!" one of them barked, though he recoiled a bit when Fiyero stepped in front of the two girls, growling again.

"No," Glinda protested weakly. "Let her."

Again, they hesitated, sharing doubtful looks.

"I have magic," Elphaba said desperately. She held up her hands. "I can save her. Please."

They didn't say anything else, which the dark-haired witch took as reluctant permission for her to help her friend, and she let her hands hover over the blonde's body.

"Your aim… used to be better than that," Glinda managed, a hint of teasing in her eyes despite the grim situation.

Elphaba gave her a wry smile. "You try aiming properly with only one eye," she muttered before beginning to chant her healing spells. She channelled all her magic and energy into healing her best friend, desperate to keep her alive. When Morrible rose again behind her, she didn't even notice. None of them did, all their attention focused on the wounded blonde girl. When Morrible began to chant, Elphaba's head whipped around, her eyes wide, but by then it was already too late. Before any of them could move, the throne room exploded in fire and wind and bits of debris.

Her first instinct was to protect herself and her friends and without thinking, she flung out her wings, covering Fiyero, Glinda, and herself with them to shield the three of them from serious harm; but she wasn't prepared for the pain that seared through the feathers when the debris shredded them, the fire burning straight through them in some places. Still, she clenched her jaw and held them out until it was over. Even if she could never fly again, protecting Glinda and Fiyero was more important.

When the wind died down and Elphaba slowly lowered her mangled wings, it was to find Morrible standing there, panting, eyes burning.

"Foolish girl," she hissed. "You'll never make it out of here alive!" She held out her palm and shot a beam of energy at the two girls, but Elphaba blocked her, managing to throw up a shield just in time. Morrible hissed, surprised, and Elphaba gave her a grim smile.

"Look at that," she drawled, knowing it would infuriate the old hag. "Perhaps I'm stronger than you after all, Madame."

Morrible flushed at that and shot another beam, and another, but Elphaba blocked them all and then send one of her own Morrible's way. This time, her aim _was_ perfect and the woman was thrown all the way back across the room, where she lay gasping for breath.

Elphaba focused on Glinda again and continued chanting softly, realising she couldn't just stop healing her or she might die after all. Everything else could wait. Even the guards that were now scrambling to their feet, dazed and wounded and shocked by what had happened. Even the blood that had begun dripping from the wounds in her wings.

A soft murmur was the only warning they had. Elphaba's head whipped up when she realised Morrible was chanting a spell and her eyes grew wide. The older woman was on her feet again, magic crackling around her fingers, a wide grin on her face as she chanted the words of a spell that would no doubt seriously hurt or possibly even destroy them all. Her gaze was on Elphaba and it was burning with hatred. The green girl braced herself for the impact of the spell.

Fiyero was quicker, however, not hesitating for a single clock-tick once he, too, noticed the old fish. He pounced.

Morrible only had time for one short, high-pitched scream before he ripped out her throat, turning her scream into a horrible gurgling sound that stopped only a few clock-ticks after it began.

For a moment, there was only silence. One heartbeat passed. Two. Then Elphaba continued to sing her healing spells, knowing she had to do this first to save Glinda's life. Everything else would come later.

After a while, she looked up. "I managed to staunch the bleeding," she said hoarsely. "I need to heal her further, but I… I have no strength left."

Fiyero nodded mutely. He was still not back to his normal self and his eyes seemed glued to Morrible's still form on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. The guards, by now, were standing again and one of them moved over to Glinda to help her, ordering one of the others to go and fetch a doctor right away. Another guard went to Morrible, searching for a heartbeat. When he found none, he closed the woman's eyes and rose to his feet again, watching Fiyero warily, but the prince hardly even noticed.

"Fiyero," Elphaba said quietly and when he looked at her, she was looking back at him with large eyes full of sympathy. "You had to do it."

He shook his head and she rose to her feet, beginning to move towards him; but then she suddenly paled and sank to the floor without another sound. Fiyero's eyes grew wide and he ran over to fall down on his knees beside her, all earlier thoughts forgotten. "Fae?" he called, an edge of panic to his voice. "Elphaba!" Was she hurt? Had Morrible placed some sort of curse on the green girl? Or had she lost too much blood when her wings were shredded? "Elphaba?"

"She fainted," Glinda croaked from her spot in the guard's arms. Her eyes fluttered open and focused on him for a moment. "Magic takes a lot out of her and she's done too much of it all at once now – resisting Morrible's mind control, defeating her, healing me…"

"What am I supposed to do?" Fiyero demanded desperately. "You're seriously hurt and she's unconscious!"

Glinda appeared to be fighting to remain conscious, but she was fighting a losing battle. "Leave me here," she murmured, already halfway gone. "I'm… Glinda the Good. They'll help me. Take care… of Elphie." Then she lost consciousness again.

The guard who held her gently lowered her head to the floor and glanced up at Fiyero. He nodded once and said brusquely, "Go."

Not wasting any time, Fiyero gathered Elphaba up in his arms and carried her out of the throne room. The sight of her wings, limply dragging over the floor, turned his stomach; there was so much blood and they seemed damaged beyond repair. He could only imagine how much pain she would be in later.

"I'm so sorry, Fae," he whispered, gently touching her hair. She didn't stir.

When she'd come into the throne room, supposedly under Morrible's control, he hadn't known what to feel. He'd been told so many lies, manipulated in so many ways, he could hardly tell what was real anymore and what wasn't. Then he'd seen her injured eye, however, and he knew she was real. It killed him, to know that she'd lost the sight in one eye, to realise that she'd indeed be scarred for the rest of her life – at least partly because of him – but it also told him that it was really her.

He'd been relieved to see her alive, for a brief moment, but then despair had come crashing down on him once more. She was alive, yes, but Morrible was controlling her. She'd do awful things to the young witch and she'd end up killing her in the end, anyway. He couldn't let that happen. The moment Morrible mentioned her guards having some 'fun' with Elphaba, he'd lost it. The thought of anyone doing _that_ to her again made his blood boil.

And now here she was, and here he was, and Morrible was dead… and he could only hope he wasn't going to lose Elphaba after all. What if she died? What if they were all taken again? What if they did make it out, but she wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore because of the terrible things he'd done?

All those thoughts ran through his head in the relatively short period of time it took him to make his way down the hall and then down the stairs. There were guards, but most of them were too flustered by the news of Glinda the Good being stabbed and Madame Morrible being murdered to notice a young man carrying a green girl in his arms. Those who did notice soon found themselves being slammed into the wall by said young man's shoulder or pushed out of the way in some other manner. These guards noticed that the young man was much stronger than he appeared to be, and that there were some hair and claws where there shouldn't have been; but he was gone before they realised who, exactly, he was.

Upon exiting the palace, Fiyero had to take down a few more guards and he then scaled the wall surrounding the gardens with Elphaba over his shoulder. Just this once, he was grateful to have claws, because he probably wouldn't have managed that with human hands. He dropped down on the other side and slunk into the shadows of the nearest buildings. It was almost dark already and dinnertime, so most Ozians had retreated inside, which suited him just fine.

He made it out of the City and into the forest without too much trouble and he kept going until he thought they were far enough away from the City to be safe. He sought out a small clearing and gently placed Elphaba between the leaves, sitting down beside her to wait for her to wake up. It was warm for this time of the year and he was grateful for that, because they didn't have anything – no blankets, no extra clothing, and no means to make a fire, although a fire would be a bad idea in any case.

Again, his gaze was drawn to her wings and he suppressed a shudder. He knew how sensitive they were and from the look of it, they had to hurt her immensely. At least they had stopped bleeding.

He drank her in, studying her face, the scars that hadn't been there before and the ones that had, mapping the changes in her since he'd last seen her. He wasn't sure what he was feeling – relief, regret, fear… He was so immensely grateful that she was here, that she was still alive; but at the same time, he felt terrible about all the things she'd been through.

He wondered if she would be all right. And Glinda, too – there had been a lot of blood… What if they couldn't save the blonde at the palace? What if they'd already been too late? And what if Elphaba hadn't just fainted, but she'd lost too much blood instead? He scooted a little closer to her and watched her closely until he was certain she was still breathing. He knew he was driving himself crazy with these thoughts, but he couldn't help it. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and he was scared and confused and a thousand other things. Still, he tried to calm himself down. All he could do now was wait and hope.

* * *

 **There's your answer, satilliteheart. Not many chapters at all. :P**


	21. Going Under

**Going Under**

Elphaba didn't wake up for another while and Fiyero settled down next to her eventually. He didn't mean to, but he drifted off to sleep all too soon, exhausted after all the time Morrible had kept him awake to torment him. It wasn't until Elphaba finally stirred beside him that he awoke again and he shot up into a sitting position, watching her intently as her eyes slowly blinked open. It had to be a little past dawn, because it was much lighter now than it had been before and he could see her much better. Again, he felt a pang at the sight of her right eye, damaged and white instead of that beautiful chocolate brown colour; but then her gaze settled on him and all he could think about was how badly he hoped she didn't hate him now.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and then gasped, her face paling, when her body registered her injuries while her mind caught up with what had happened at the same time. "Glinda!"

"She's safe," Fiyero reassured her, even though he didn't know that for sure. "You healed her a little and she was taken away by the guards. She's Glinda the Good – she'll be treated like royalty and her injury will be well taken care of."

She nodded faintly and then looked over at him. "Are you all right?" she asked anxiously.

It was so typical for her to worry about him when she was the one who nearly died and then fell unconscious not too long ago, not to mention her wounds. The genuine concern for him he could hear in her voice brought a lump to his throat and he could only nod.

She lowered her gaze. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice breaking, and that did it. Before he could do something incredibly embarrassing, like burst into tears, he moved over to her and put his arms around her instead, nearly crushing her against his chest.

She stiffened for a moment and all kinds of things flashed through his head – she hated him, she was afraid of him, he never wanted to see him again – but then she buried her face in his chest and her body began to shake with silent sobs. "I'm so sorry," she hiccupped again, between sobs, but he just ran his hand over her hair. As he did so, he noticed that for the first time since Morrible had taken him and Glinda, his hand was that of a normal human man. He was himself again.

"Shh," he soothed her, stroking her hair and her back, holding her as tightly as he could without touching her injured wings. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Fae, _I_ 'm sorry."

She shook her head, her fast still pressed into his shirt, but he needed her to understand. "Elphaba… I murdered Morrible," he stressed. "And she's not the only one I killed."

"She made you," she whispered against his chest. "You didn't mean to."

"I didn't, but I did do it," he insisted.

She drew away from him, finally, to look up at him. "Those people I told you about," she said hoarsely. "The ones I killed… the ones she made me kill. In the beginning. You told me it wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't," he said instantly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then how is this any different?"

He fell silent at that and she wrapped her arms around him again, breathing in his scent before leaning up to brush her lips softly against his. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she echoed his own words back at him.

This time, he had no reply except to kiss her harder and hold her even tighter. She hissed in pain at that, however, and he quickly let go of her, allowing her to inspect her wings. She had to take a few deep breaths upon seeing the damage with her own eyes. She doubted she'd be able to heal these injuries enough for her to ever fly again. The realisation made her sad, to her slight surprise. She'd really grown to love flying, despite the initial pain that had come with these wings.

"Will you be okay?" Fiyero asked quietly and she nodded, gingerly running the tips of her fingers along the edges.

"Yeah," she said as she, very carefully, folded what was left of her wings back against her body. She winced a little at the movement. "I'll be fine."

He touched her cheek and then embraced her again, burying his face into her neck. "I'm so glad you're alive," he whispered into her hair, closing his eyes for a moment. They were filling with tears despite his earlier resolve not to cry. "I thought… I mean, she made me think… She made me kill people, and then she pretended one of the people I slaughtered was you…"

She was shaking – with horror, pain, exhaustion, or emotion, he wasn't sure. He was crying now after all and she clung to him tightly. He didn't really want to talk about what happened. He just wanted to hold her and convince himself that she was alive and that was all that mattered. He'd done terrible things, but she forgave him. Now all he still had to do was forgive himself.

"How did you do it?" he whispered when the worst of his tears had subsided. "She was controlling you, wasn't she?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "She was," she mumbled. "But I practised – with Myah, and with Glinda's parents… I trained my mind so I could resist her. I wasn't sure it would work," she confessed. "I hoped it would. I thought it would, but I wasn't sure."

"I'm glad it did," he said with a sigh. "Oz, Fae."

"That's why it took me so long to get to you," she said, again pulling away from him a little so she could look at him. She gently traced his features with the tips of her fingers. "Yero, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner –"

"Shut up, Elphaba," he said, perhaps a little harsher than he had intended, but he just couldn't listen to her talking like this. She drew away, startled by his fierce tone, and he looked into her eyes. "You," he growled slightly, shifting again a little in his frustration, "you have nothing to be sorry for. I told you. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, watching him intently. She cradled his face between her hands, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs and then kissing him, slowly, deliberately, the way she used to do when she wanted to convince him that she didn't care about the way he looked or the things he had done in the past. A crushing relief washed over him when he realised that nothing had changed between them after all.

He kissed her back, but only briefly, before pulling away. "We should get away from here," he said reluctantly. "Before they come looking for us. I just… don't know where to go."

She pursed her lips. "We'll go back to Glinda's parents," she said. "They're in a rebel shelter – though I think that once they hear what happened, they'll be moving back into their own home. Myah's with them."

He had to ask. "She's not dead?"

Her face softened and she shook her head. "She's fine, Yero," she promised him. "Really. Just worried, probably. I stayed away much longer than I thought I would."

He nodded and decided to focus on the practical side of things. "How will we get there?"

She shifted her wings a little and cursed at the pain shooting through them as she did so. "I wish I could fly us, but at the moment, that's not really an option."

She began to walk, but she'd only taken a few steps when she had to reach out to a tree trunk for support. She cursed again and Fiyero shook his head. "You're still too weak after so much magic and blood loss," he pointed out. "Not to mention the fact that your balance is completely off with your wings hurt like that. This isn't going to work, Fae. I'll carry you."

"No," she hissed. "I can walk."

He rolled his eyes – this was so typical. "Elphaba…"

"I can," she insisted stubbornly, taking another few steps. She wobbled and quickly grabbed a low-hanging branch to hold herself up.

"Are you sure you don't want me to carry you?" he asked patiently.

She gave him one of those patented death glares of hers and he sighed, shaking his head. He'd scooped her up in his arms before she could say another word. She protested weakly, but her heart wasn't in it. She knew just as well as he did that she was in no condition to walk very far. Eventually, she just settled in his arms and brooded in silence, which made him grin.

It was obvious that she hadn't changed a bit in some things, he thought as he carried her through the forest and she continued to sulk over the fact that she couldn't walk on her own. After a while, she demanded crossly, "Do you even know which way you're going?"

"I do," he said. "The sun is over there and it's early in the morning, which means that way," he nodded in the direction he was walking in, "is north, where the Upper Uplands are."

She huffed. "How do you even know that?"

"The Vinkun culture is one of hunters," he reminded her. "I spent a large part of my childhood outside, learning such things."

She was quiet after that. At some point, she said sullenly, "We're going too slowly."

He gave her a look.

"What?" she protested. "We are! If you'd just let me walk…"

"…we'd be going even slower," he finished drily for her.

She scowled at him.

"Are you denying it?" he asked her in mild amusement and she sighed.

"I wish we could fly," she murmured sadly. "I could have carried you."

He touched his forehead to hers for a moment and then pressed a kiss to her hair. "I know, but we'll be fine. We'll continue on foot. If you're feeling stronger tonight, you can try to cast a healing spell. Okay?"

She relented, recognising his point, and she laid her head against his shoulder. He looked at her eye again, the jagged scar running across it, and once again he felt a stab of guilt. "How…" He hesitated. "I mean, does it still hurt? Your eye?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. "Not nearly as badly as before, though." She told him how she'd healed her wounds, after she and Myah had escaped; and then, of course, he wanted to know _how_ they had escaped, exactly, and what else had happened in the month or so they had been separated. She told him everything and then made him tell her what Morrible had done to him and Glinda – as much as he knew or could remember, anyway. It wasn't exactly a pleasant way to pass the time, but they both wanted to know what the other had been through and at least it _did_ pass the time.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked worriedly at some point when she shifted a little in his arms, a grimace flitting across her face.

She shook her head. "No," she assured him. "I mean, it does hurt, a lot, but it doesn't feel any worse with you carrying me than it did with me sitting down or walking by myself."

He nodded. "Okay."

They stopped around midday to eat some berries from a bush they found and Elphaba swallowed her pride and asked if they could rest here for a little while.

"If I sleep now, I think I'll be able to heal myself when I wake up," she said.

He nodded, even though he wasn't at all sure she'd be strong enough for that. Still, sleep would be good for her, so he made her lie down with her head in his lap and ran his fingers through her hair as he watched her drift off to sleep. He could use some sleep himself, but he didn't dare lie down beside her. One of them had to keep watch in case someone else came along.

She awoke hours later, when the sun was already beginning to set again, and she winced when she moved. She unfolded her wings, very slowly, and lowered them to rest on the forest floor with a hiss of pain.

"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly.

She hesitated. "I don't know," she confessed. "I mean… I'll live, if that's what you meant, but my wings…" She lowered her gaze. "I'm not sure I can heal them. Even if I can, I'm not sure it'll be enough – and if it's not, how are we ever going to get out of here? Or what if I can heal them, but I can't fly well enough with only one eye? The Gale Force is probably looking for us by now, and –"

"Shush." He pressed a finger to her lips. "We'll deal with that when it happens, okay?"

She looked up at him and for a moment, the look in that single large, dark brown eye reminded him so much of the girl he'd met in Southstairs four years ago that it took his breath away.

"If you think you're strong enough, try," he told her gently. "If you don't think you are, or if you do try and it doesn't work for some reason, we'll find another way. We'll make it, Fae. We made it this far, haven't we?"

"We did, but at what cost?" she asked. Her voice broke and he cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her softly.

"It's worth it," he told her, his own voice firm and steady. "If we live, if we can be together, if Morrible is truly gone – and she is, you know that… then it's all been worth it."

She took a deep breath and nodded. Then she closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself, before opening them again and looking at him.

"Last time I tried this, I also happened to be weak, and wounded, and in a forest with a Tiggular," she said with a wry smile. "I'll tell you what I told Myah then. Don't touch me, don't move me, and don't distract me. I'm going to be in a lot of pain, but you'll just have to deal with that. I think my injuries are less bad this time around than they were then, so it might not take as long; but that time, after I cast the spell, I remained unconscious for a couple of hours, so don't worry if that happens again."

He nodded.

"If something happens – if we are discovered," she began, but he cut her off.

"I'll grab you and get out of here."

She'd wanted to tell him the same thing she'd told Myah – to go and leave her here – but the firm tone of his voice told her that that wasn't going to happen and she knew better than to argue. She knew by now that he could be just as stubborn as she was, when he wanted to be, so she simply nodded.

"Do you need anything?" he asked. "Do you need to eat first, or to drink, or…?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. She supposed she did need to eat, but she was in too much pain to really feel hungry. It felt like there were a dozen knives stuck in her back. She didn't want to let that on to Fiyero, though – he felt guilty and bad enough as it was.

He squeezed her hand and scuffled backwards to give her some space. Elphaba looked at him and when he gave her an encouraging smile, she started to chant.

It was just as painful as the previous time, if not more so, and she could tell that Fiyero was worried about her; but he kept his promise and didn't disturb her or break her concentration, though he watched her like a hawk. She just hoped it would work. If it didn't, she had no idea how they were ever going to make it back to the Upper Uplands without anyone spotting them and calling the Gale Force.

Just when the pain became unbearable, she lost consciousness and by the time she opened her eyes again, it was completely dark. Fiyero was there, though, cradling her head in his lap, and she felt his fingers brush some hair away from her forehead.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Are you okay?"

She groaned as she tried to sit up and he helped her. Very carefully, she stretched her wings. They felt a little strange, and heavier than usual, but perhaps that was just because she was still so tired. It hurt, but not as much as before; the sharp, agonising stabs of pain had dulled into a constant ache that wasn't pleasant, but she could live with it.

"They feel better," she admitted, shifting her wings a little. "Not perfect, but better."

"And you?" he asked knowingly and she gave a low chuckle. He knew her too well.

"I'm better, too."

He hesitated, then asked, "Can I feel?"

She nodded, then realised he couldn't see that in the dark and said, "Of course."

She felt his fingers brush against the edges of her wings, very lightly – he was probably afraid to hurt her, so she rolled her eyes. "Yero, I'm not made of sugar."

He huffed, but placed his palms against the feathers now, running his hands over the surface gently, but more firmly than before. She closed her eyes. She could feel every touch of his calloused hands and as always, it made her shudder a little, though that was emotion just as much as it was the touch this time. For the first time, she felt like they really were back to normal. The Witch and the Monster. The Huntress and the Beast. Elphaba and Fiyero. Everything else had changed, but at least they were still the same.

His touch was comforting, but it didn't escape her notice that his hands seemed to run along a slight lump sometimes, or that there were parts she knew he touched, but where she couldn't feel his touch.

She bit her lip. "They're scarred, aren't they."

It was more of a statement than a question, but he answered nonetheless. "Yes," he murmured, continuing to gently run his hands along her wings. "I'm so sorry, Fae."

She shrugged. "It could have been worse." At least she could still use them, or so she hoped. She'd have to see how bad the damage was in the morning.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her right wing, near her shoulder, and then one to her temple. "You should rest a little more," he murmured. "Come here." He sat up against a tree trunk and held out his arm so she could curl up against him. "I'll keep watch."

"Aren't you tired?" she asked, but he shook his head.

"I'll sleep later."

She wanted to argue, but she knew she should indeed rest more or she would never be strong enough to fly and she also knew someone had to keep watch, so she didn't say anything. She snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder, and she carefully extended her damaged wings to wrap around them both to keep them warm in the chilly night air. Fiyero began caressing the feathers again, slowly running his hands along them in an attempt to lull her to sleep, and soon she had drifted off once more.


	22. Hope Has Wings

**Hope Has Wings**

Elphaba awoke feeling much better than before, although she was still sore. It was just before dawn, judging from the grey light filtering through the trees; and when she lifted her head to look at Fiyero, she found him fast asleep. Guilt gnawed at her. She knew Morrible had kept him awake for a long time, just to torture him, and he'd only gotten a few hours' sleep while she had been unconscious the first time, right after what had happened in the throne room. After that, she'd got to take not one, but two naps, thus forcing him to stay awake – again.

He wouldn't see it that way, she knew, and she also knew that she hadn't had much of a choice, because she needed the sleep to heal. Still, she felt bad, so she decided to stay up and keep watch now, letting him sleep as long as he needed to.

Feeling stiff, she did slowly and gingerly unwrap her wings from around him, stretching them. She took off her cloak and draped it over Fiyero instead, since it was still pretty cold, before clambering to her feet, using some tree branches for support. Her wings still felt a little strange, which upset her balance, so she wobbled a bit as she tried to stand up and then walk by herself. Her muscles were stiff from sleeping on the cold ground all night and it wasn't until she'd walked a couple of circles around the clearing before she felt a bit more stable.

She found a bush with some berries nearby, which she gathered and took back with her. She was thirsty, too, but she couldn't hear any running water and she was loath to leave Fiyero in search of a stream – he'd panic if he woke up to find her gone. She continued to walk and exercise her wings until the sun was up and then she decided it was time to properly inspect the damage. Lowering herself to the forest floor again, she braced herself and then lifted her right wing, pulling it over her shoulder so she could have a good look.

In some places, it almost seemed as if the feathers had melted together into a glossy patch of lighter grey that she couldn't feel at all when she touched it. There were lumps, too – ridges of scar tissue, in some places thicker than in others. Some of the wounds hadn't been completely healed at all, which explained why her wings still ached, but they weren't fresh wounds anymore and she thought she could swallow the pain and try to fly. It was vital that they got out of here as soon as possible – before the Gale Force came for them after all for murdering Morrible.

She let go of her wing and sat back on her heels. Murdering Morrible. She couldn't quite believe that after all this time, they'd actually managed to kill the old hag.

She just sat for a while, lost in thought, until she heard a sleepy voice from behind her. "Fae?" He yawned. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I don't know," she said, twisting to look at him. "You were asleep when I woke up. You probably needed it."

He instantly looked flustered and guilty, running his hands through his messy hair. "I was supposed to keep watch."

She shrugged. "Nothing happened."

"But what if –"

"Nothing happened," she repeated, giving him a stern look. She rose to her feet and brushed some twigs and leaves off the skirt of her dress. "Here's the plan. You're going to eat." She gestured towards the berries she'd gathered earlier. "I'm going to fly – or try to fly, anyway. I need to try to fly for myself first before I can properly judge if I can hold us both. I don't want us crashing."

He frowned. "What if _you_ crash?"

She rolled her eyes. "I won't crash. If my wings can't hold my weight, I'll barely make it off the ground in the first place." She flashed him a faint smile. "And otherwise I just hope you'll be there to catch me."

Her tone was teasing, but he clearly didn't find the idea very amusing. "Fae…"

She spread her wings, arching an eyebrow at him. He looked back at her unhappily, still frowning, but he didn't try to stop her and she took a deep breath before flapping her wings. Once, then twice. It ached, her injuries protesting the abuse, but it wasn't too bad and she lifted off the ground, slowly at first, then faster as she beat her wings more firmly. She didn't want to go too high for fear for anyone spotting her, so she stayed amidst the treetops, dodging them as she circled and meandered and tried to determine what she could and couldn't do.

Despite everything – her injuries, her worry for Glinda, her fear that she and Fiyero wouldn't make it back to the Uplands safely – she felt giddy, just for a moment. She could still fly. Her wings felt a little less steady, a little less strong, and it was more difficult to judge depth and distance; but she could fly and she was pretty sure she'd be able to carry Fiyero with her, too. At least Morrible hadn't taken that from her.

She returned to him, trying to land gracefully, but she misjudged the distance to the ground and ended up half crashing, half stumbling, ending almost flat on her face. She groaned, pushing herself to her knees. "I guess my landings are going to need some more work."

Fiyero was by her side in the blink of an eye, helping her up. "You all right?"

"My ego is bruised and my pride is mildly injured, but other than that, I'm fine." She looked at him. "I think I can make it."

He nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, but she could see the fear in his eyes and she suppressed a smirk. She hadn't forgotten how terrified he'd been that first time she'd taken him flying.

"Yero," she said. "You do know I would never try this if I thought I couldn't do it, right? I wouldn't put you in danger like that. I don't want to see you fall any more than you want to fall."

He chuckled nervously. "I know. I'm just worried you might be going too fast."

"Maybe, but we don't have time to take it slow." She laced her fingers with his and squeezed his hand. "Come on. Let's find some water to drink first. We'll walk for a while, until we're far enough away from the City to not be spotted, and then we can go."

* * *

It took them a while to reach the Uplands' home, having to stop often to allow Elphaba to regain her strength. The green girl was a bit anxious to fly by day, but she didn't want to wait until nightfall; she knew Myah, Geoffren and Leora would be worried enough as it was, even though she was fairly certain they'd have heard some news by now. Besides, she really wanted to know if Glinda was okay.

The door to the mansion was opened by Geoffren himself, who took one good look at the both of them and then exhaled slowly. "You made it."

"We made it," Elphaba confirmed. He stepped aside to let them in and they both entered the house before the young witch turned back around to face Geoffren. "Have you heard about Glinda?"

He nodded wearily. "We received news from the palace that she has been gravely injured. Leora travelled to the City right away. I couldn't leave immediately – with Morrible gone, there are a lot of things I need to take care of, so we agreed that if Glinda can't be brought here, I'll travel to the Emerald City as well, as soon as I can."

As he spoke, he made his way over to the living room, Elphaba and Fiyero right behind him. Fiyero looked around eagerly and Geoffren, noticing this, said knowingly, "Myah has gone on an errand for me. She should be back any time now."

Fiyero's face fell a little, but he nodded and he and Elphaba sat down on the couch Geoffren offered them. The older man lowered himself into an armchair and leaned forward, studying them both.

"We heard about Morrible's murder very soon," he said. "King Oscar himself made the proclamation."

Elphaba's head shot up at that. "King Oscar?"

Geoffren nodded with a faint smile. "The moment Morrible died, the influence she had over him was lifted and he went back to his old self. He appears to be quite tired still and he doesn't remember everything that happened since Morrible took control, but he's healthy as a horse again."

Fiyero had sat up straighter, looking hopeful. "Wait. If her influence over him vanished the moment she died… Does that mean all the spells she cast…?"

Elphaba placed her hand on his arm. "Yero… You didn't turn back right away when she died, remember?" she said gently.

He hung his head. "So my spell still isn't broken."

She squeezed his arm consolingly. "I'll find a way," she vowed. "I promise."

"If there is one."

She nudged him. "Don't be pessimistic. That's _my_ job."

One corner of his mouth turned up into a half-smile and she smiled back at him before looking at Geoffren again. "How is Glinda? Do you know anything more?"

He shook his head. "I know she is still alive or I'd have read or heard news of her death by now," he said. "She's Glinda the Good – it'd be all over the newspapers. I haven't heard anything else, though. All the message from the palace said was that she was seriously injured."

Elphaba bit her lip, worried, but she tried to shake it off. She'd done all she could for her friend. Now she could only hope it had been enough.

Just then, the door opened and footsteps resounded in the hallway. Fiyero leapt to his feet and before Elphaba had even turned to see who was entering the living room, Myah was already on top of her brother, jumping and wrapping her arms and legs around him in a tight hug. He caught her just in time and laughed, though Elphaba could tell he was holding back tears. "It's good to see you, too, sis."

"Are you okay?" Myah demanded, letting go of him and giving him a quick inspection before launching herself at Elphaba in another hug. "And you? We heard about Glinda – what happened? Did Morrible do that? And did you kill her? How did it go? Tell me everything!"

"We will, once you stop talking," said Fiyero teasingly, but the relief was visible in his face and Myah hugged him again, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing.

Geoffren had risen to his feet as well. "Let's go upstairs, shall we? You both have injuries that need looking at and I suspect you could do with a proper meal and some sleep, too."

"I'll help," Myah offered and together, they made it upstairs. After a bath, a meal, and Geoffren declaring there was nothing more he could do for their injuries – they'd have to heal on their own from now on – he offered Elphaba and Fiyero a guest room and retreated downstairs.

"I could sleep for a week," Fiyero muttered, stretching out on the bed, and Elphaba hummed in agreement. She stood at the window and looked out, thinking about Glinda, and Morrible, and what would happen next.

As if he was reading her mind, Fiyero said, "Would you stop worrying and come over here? You need to rest just as much as I do and there's nothing you can do right now to help anyone. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."

She turned away from the window with a sigh, folding her scarred wings against her back and climbing into the bed. "I'm not good at waiting," she complained. "I want to _do_ something."

Fiyero brushed some hair away from her face. "I know," he said. "But you can't. Not right now. Just relax and try to sleep."

She sighed again. He began humming a lullaby, which only served to make her grin, because she'd never heard anything so off-key. "Good thing you never decided to become a singer."

He stuck out his tongue.

She sobered, looking at him. "Do you think Glinda is okay?"

"I think you've done all you could for her," he said, carefully considering his answer. "I think if she hasn't succumbed to her injuries yet, that's a good sign. And if she does – if she doesn't make it…" Elphaba flinched at that, but he just ran his hand over the feathers at the tops of her wings, trying to soothe her. "If she doesn't make it, it will be through no fault of yours. You did your best, Fae. There's nothing more you could have done. Without you, she wouldn't even have made it to the medical wing, so just… try not to worry about it too much. We'll find out soon enough."

She stared up at the ceiling. "Yeah…"

Feeling bold, he reached out to pull her closer, his arm around her waist. She tensed very briefly before allowing him to hold her and she even snuggled a little against him, leaning her head against his shoulder as she closed her eyes.

"It'll be fine," he whispered into her hair, still stroking his hand down her wings. "We'll be fine."

She probably didn't believe him, he thought; but she didn't protest. Before long, she had fallen asleep and he wasn't far behind.


	23. The Waiting

**The Waiting**

Fiyero had been right. All they could do was wait, and though it made Elphaba decidedly itchy, she knew it was the wisest course of action.

A few days after their return, Geoffren travelled to the Emerald City to see his wife and daughter and to make arrangements for Glinda to return to the Upper Uplands once she was stable enough to be transported. Her recovery was slow, but the fact that she was recovering at all was a good sign, so Elphaba tried to be optimistic that her friend was going to make it.

Elphaba and Fiyero were staying behind, as was Myah. The latter took care of anything that needed to be done outside of the house, since by now it was common knowledge that the Huntress and the beast Morrible had once controlled had been present when Morrible was murdered and it wasn't entirely clear whether or not they were wanted for that. To be on the safe side, they remained indoors and out of sight, laying low until they knew more. This only served to set Elphaba on edge even more, but between the two of them, Fiyero and Myah managed to keep her distracted.

She dove into Geoffren's books again, this time not to search for a way to defeat Morrible, but to search for a way to break Fiyero's curse. The more she looked, however, the more she was beginning to think that there might be no way to do that. Spells from the Grimmerie appeared to be irreversible, just like Morrible had always told her, and she didn't know what else she could do.

"What if I can't do it?" she asked Fiyero when she had to put aside yet another useless book. He'd been standing behind her, massaging her tense muscles while she read, and she twisted now to look up at him as his hands stilled on her shoulders. "What if I can never get you back to your old self?"

He hesitated. He swallowed. He lifted his hands and moved around her to sit down on the chair beside hers, clearly thinking about her question.

Her heart sank, because she knew what would happen if he had to stay this way. He'd told her before how horrible he felt, always having to hide, always surviving instead of living. Perhaps he wouldn't blame her for being unable to help him, but he wouldn't be happy, either.

"Maybe there's a way to control it," she said hopefully. "Not _break_ your curse, but somehow make it more manageable."

He sighed. "Maybe." He fidgeted. "But, Fae… If I stay this way… I can't stay with you. Or with Myah. I'd be too scared I'd hurt you someday."

She scoffed before she could help herself. "You should know us better than that by now. I'm not letting you go back to Kiamo Ko to live out the rest of your life all by yourself and neither is Myah. You won't hurt us. You never have before."

"I can't always control it –"

"It'd be fine. We'd make it work somehow." She looked down at her books again. "I just… I wish I could help you." She hated seeing him this way – not because he looked like a beast sometimes, but because he clearly loathed himself so much for being cursed. She could tell he was feeling desperate, even if he wouldn't show it.

They both still had a lot of things to work through. Fiyero was terrified of losing control again and woke up from nightmares in which he murdered Elphaba, or Myah, or his entire family. They both felt guilty, and they were scared, but they both tried to hide it; and Elphaba knew these things wouldn't just go away. Perhaps not ever.

She also knew, though, that they finally had a chance to live now. For the first time in years, she had a future. It was a difficult concept to grasp and it was more than a little scary, but she allowed herself to dream of doing work she'd always wanted to do, of growing old, of living the rest of her life in peace… of marrying. Of marrying Fiyero. If he was serious about still wanting her, despite everything.

They'd both done things they weren't proud of, both forced and out of their own free will, but she was still convinced that what she'd done was worse – not to mention the way she looked now. Both inside and out, she was damaged beyond repair and he deserved so much better than that.

"I don't blame you," he said, drawing her back to the present. He leaned forward. "You know that, right? The fact that you're willing to search for a way to help me already means so much to me, I just wish…" He exhaled through his nose. "I don't want to frighten you, and I don't want to hurt you, and that's why I want this curse broken."

She shook her head. "You don't frighten me," she said firmly. "And you won't hurt me. You're a good person, Yero. A genuinely good person, and there aren't very many of those in this world."

"Why?" he asked flatly. "Why are you so convinced I am a good person? After everything I've done?"

"We've all done things." She shrugged. "If you were a bad person, you would never have given me your blanket in Southstairs. You would never have felt guilty for what Morrible made you do. You're a good person because you love your family and because you risked your life to help two strange girls, harbouring their stolen magic books despite the risk it posed to you." She was smiling faintly, but her smile faded as she added quietly, "If you weren't a good person, you'd never have fallen in love with me, let alone want to stay with me after… after everything."

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Gazilon fell in love with you, didn't he? And there would be many other guys if they got the chance, I'm sure."

She shook her head, her hair falling in front of her face. "That's different. Gazilon… That was before." She was silent for a moment. "Are you sure you want me, Fiyero?"

He drew back, shocked. "What?"

"I came along when you had no-one else," she said. "I know that's why you first kissed me." He'd told her that, after a while, but he'd made sure to add that by then he really had grown to love her. "Are you sure you're not just staying with me now because… because you're afraid that there won't be anyone else who looks past your curse, and you'd rather have me than be alone?"

He was completely speechless and for a moment, she worried she had offended him, but then he spluttered. "Why – what – I mean, why would you think that?" he demanded.

She laughed. It wasn't a genuinely amused laugh, but it seemed the only appropriate reaction to his question. "Really, Fiyero? Why _would_ you want me? Let's see. It could be my sunny disposition or my peaches-and-cream complexion. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm so _good_ and I've never dared to hurt anyone in my life, or it's because I'm so very pretty. Oh, wait! Maybe it's my beautifully smooth and symmetrical face and my brilliantly brown eyes! Oh, no – that would be _eye_ now, wouldn't it?"

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, which she was sure he wouldn't like, but she just couldn't help herself. It seemed such a ridiculous question from him. She could write an entire book about all the reasons why he shouldn't want to be with her.

She was a little startled, however, when he growled. He knew she didn't understand his reaction, but that only made it worse, in his eyes; and he framed her face with his hands, making her look at him. He knew he'd changed a little, that was how intensely he felt about this, but he also knew she wouldn't mind.

She lowered her gaze and he growled again, softly. "Elphaba, look at me."

It took her a moment, but then she did and he locked eyes with her, wanting to convey to her that he meant what he was saying.

"You," he said and his voice broke despite his best efforts to keep it steady, "you are beautiful. You are so, _so_ beautiful, Elphaba, and you always will be. No scar, no injury, _nothing_ is ever going to change that. Do you understand?"

Her eyes were wide and he didn't look away until he saw the tears she tried hard to blink away and he knew he was finally getting through to her. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, leaning his forehead against hers. "Do you understand?" he repeated, softer now, and she only hesitated for a brief moment before nodding slowly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her close to him. It was a little awkward, given the fact that they were both still seated on their chairs, but neither of them minded. "Good. And I don't want you to think any of those other things about yourself, either. Like you said before, we've all done things. We can't change that now. That doesn't make you evil, though, or a bad person. If you say I'm still a good person, despite everything, then you are, too."

She didn't say anything.

"And your skin is beautiful as well," he added as an afterthought.

She chuckled weakly. "See? That's why you're a good person. Only you could think so."

He smiled, shaking his head a little, but they were interrupted by the sound of pounding footsteps on the stairs. He drew away and rose to his feet, Elphaba also just standing up when Myah burst through the door, out of breath.

"It's Glinda," she said, her eyes shining. "She's back."

* * *

Leora and Geoffren had both returned with their daughter, who was still weak, but alive and recovering. She was in a wheelchair and she looked horribly pale, but her face lit up when she saw Elphaba and Fiyero and she actually squealed. "Elphie!" She reached out to her friend and Elphaba leaned down to embrace her. She then pulled away to survey Glinda, taking her in. "Glin… are you okay?"

Glinda smiled at Fiyero and holding out her arms to him, too. He hugged her, too, albeit a little awkwardly, and she giggled. "It's so good to see you again! I wasn't sure if you'd gotten away, and if you'd be all right…" She trailed off when she studied Elphaba closer and she bit her lip. "Oh, Elphie… your wings!"

"They still work," the green girl assured her. "They're weaker than before, and damaged, but I can fly. That's how we managed to get back here." She squeezed Glinda's hand. "Oz, Glin… I've been so worried about you."

"I made it," said Glinda. "Thanks to you. If you hadn't healed me, I'd have been dead now."

Elphaba hugged her again at that, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears threatening to spill from them. They had made it. All of them. They really had. Her father, her sister, Fiyero and Myah's family, Gazilon… the rebels she killed, the ones Morrible made Fiyero kill… it hadn't been for nothing.

She took a deep breath before letting go. "You didn't answer my earlier question. Are you okay?"

Glinda hesitated and exchanged a look with her parents, who both looked sad. Elphaba instantly felt anxious again when she saw that and behind her, she could feel Fiyero tense as well. "Something's wrong, isn't there?" she asked, her heart pounding in her throat. "Glin?"

Geoffren placed his hand on the top of his daughter's head and looked solemnly at Elphaba. "The doctors at the palace said that her recovery is going to be long," he said calmly. He glanced at his wife, who seemed ready to burst into tears, and then he added, "She, um…"

"I'm not going to be able to walk again," Glinda finished for him. She looked up at Elphaba and met her gaze. "Morrible's sword went right through my abdomen and nicked my spine. I'm paralysed."

Elphaba was, too, for a moment. She was completely frozen.

"Glinda…" Fiyero said in a pained tone after a few heartbeats. "I'm so sorry."

She acknowledged that with a nod before looking back at Elphaba. "Don't feel guilty."

That shook the green girl from her frozen state. "How could I possibly help it?" she burst out, but Glinda reached out to take her friend's hand.

"You saved my life," she said firmly. "The sword nicked my spine, but it went straight through some internal organs. I would have bled out before they could've gotten me to the medical wing if it weren't for you. Don't you dare feel guilty for saving my life. It's going to be hard, but I'm still here and that's what counts." She squeezed Elphaba's hand. "Besides, you can help me. You told me about Nessarose, remember?" She forced a small smile. "I guess that means you know how this works."

Elphaba nodded wordlessly. She felt like the lump in her throat was the size of a football.

Leora broke the silence that followed, addressing her daughter. "You should rest."

Glinda nodded and Geoffren gently lifted her out of the chair, carrying her up the stairs. Elphaba felt Fiyero step up behind her, right where she needed him, and she allowed herself to lean back against him and close her eyes for a moment.

Leora was looking at the couple. "King Oscar is trying to restore everything to the way it was before Morrible took over," she said, "but it's going to be a long and difficult process. Some high officials still support Madame Morrible's ideas and are trying to stop the king. He has called for any surviving members of the nobility to report to him now, so he can get an idea of how many are still alive and have been in hiding. He has to restore order and that will take time. Many provinces are without rulers now."

Fiyero nodded, still holding Elphaba, and he put his chin on the top of her head. "It will take time, and it isn't over," he confirmed. "But we're getting there."

"Are you going to report to the king?" Elphaba asked quietly of both Fiyero and Leora.

The latter nodded. "We already did when we picked up Glinda," she said.

Fiyero hesitated. "I'll report," he said finally. "But… I don't really intend to take up my father's throne. That was his place, and Jermain's, but not mine… and even without the whole curse thing complicating things… I don't think I want to. It's not me."

She nodded. She could understand that.

"And you, Elphaba?" Leora asked the young witch. "Do you intend to reclaim your family's position?"

She faltered. She hadn't thought about her family's position, as Leora put it, in a long time; ever since she'd left her home to become a rebel, it hadn't really mattered. Still, her father had been the governor. She could probably claim that position now, as the only surviving member of her family.

"I'll report, too," she said with a sigh, "but I have no desire to take up the governorship. I mean, can you imagine a green, winged governor?"

"I hope that's not your only reason for giving up on your birthright," said Fiyero, a warning undertone in his voice, and she smirked a little upon hearing that.

"No," she said. "I don't want to. It's too much of a hassle, too much responsibility, and not at all what I always wanted from life. Not that I ever really wanted anything," she amended. "Aside from stopping Morrible, that is."

"You can want things now," said Fiyero.

Leora smiled at Elphaba. "Whatever you decide, dear, you can stay here for as long as you want. All of you."

"Thank you," said Elphaba gratefully and Leora nodded before excusing herself.

"So what do you want?" Fiyero asked once they were alone.

She took a breath. "Some peace and quiet would be nice, for a change," she said wryly, but then she sobered. "I guess I just… I don't know. I never had the luxury of dreaming of the future. I never thought I'd _have_ a future. And now… I think I have to get used to the idea."

"Well, would I be in it?" Fiyero asked. His tone was joking, but she recognised the genuine question behind it and she smiled, turning to kiss him softly.

"Yeah," she murmured, reaching up to wind her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. It was growing longer again, a true testimony to how much time had passed since she'd first met him and given him that haircut, all those months ago. "Yeah, you're in it." She resisted the urge to add 'if you want to be'. He'd made it pretty clear to her that he wanted to be.

He smiled, too. "Good," he said, before cupping her face in both hands and kissing her again.

* * *

 **I came so incredibly close to killing Glinda. A couple of you know that, because I discussed it with you; I felt this story was too dark for everyone to get off unscathed, but I decided in the end that if Glinda died, Elphaba would NEVER get over the guilt of being unable to save her, so I chose the middle road instead and just... gave them all lasting injuries. :3**


	24. At Last

**Whoops. I thought I'd posted this, but I only uploaded it into the Doc Manager... sorry!**

 **Vinkunwildflowerqueen: I like that. I'm including it in the epilogue. :P It would be a very Glinda thing to say.**

 **Satilliteheart: She will, I promise! Not yet, but... epilogue. Next chapter.**

 **Fae'sFlower: You have no right to say anything. You just murdered Elphaba - _twice_. If anyone is sending Hunters, it will be me!**

* * *

 **At Last**

Elphaba and Fiyero continued to stay out of sight as much as they could, even as days turned into weeks and slowly, very slowly, things began to change in Oz. Their focus, however, was more on their own recovery and particularly Glinda's.

After having taken care of her sister for so long, Elphaba remembered a lot about the things Nessa had been able and unable to do because of her chair, the things she'd needed and the things she'd felt, so she tried to use that information to help her best friend now. Glinda was trying very hard to be optimistic, but even her sunny personality couldn't change the fact that her entire life had been turned upside down and nothing was ever going to be the same again. Getting used to never being able to walk again was much harder than she'd thought it would be, she confessed to Elphaba one morning, and after that confession she promptly burst into tears.

"Of course it is," Elphaba murmured, hugging her friend tightly and rubbing her back. "It's not nothing, Glin. You have to get used to it and even once you are, it's not always going to be easy. But you can do it. If anyone can, it's you. You're so strong, and so brave. I'm so proud of you."

Glinda hugged her back, sniffling in her ear. "Thank you, Elphie, but I'm not strong," she said, pulling away and shaking her head. "I'm not brave. That's all you."

"Let's agree to disagree on that," said Elphaba a little wryly and Glinda giggled despite her tears.

"All right."

Overall, however, she really did think Glinda was doing exceptionally well and she truly was proud of her friend. They all grew closer, having to stay cooped up together so much, and Glinda was grateful to be surrounded by friends and to have them around to help her, especially since her parents were quite busy with everything going on in Oz. She found herself needing a lot of help and unlike her best friend, she wasn't afraid to ask for it.

"I really admire that about you," Elphaba confessed at some point. "I've always felt like asking for help was showing weakness, but if there's anything I've learnt over the past couple of years, it's that I can't do everything by myself."

Glinda giggled. "I'm glad you at least did learn that lesson, Elphie. Asking for help is nothing to be ashamed of. You're my friends and I trust you. I know that maybe I could do it all alone, but isn't it much easier and much more fun with other people there, too?"

Elphaba had to admit that her friend had a point there.

It had turned out that Glinda had already given her statement of what had happened in the throne room the day Morrible was killed while the blonde had still been in the palace infirmary. Most people seemed to believe her and although there were some calls for justice, the majority of Oz was only too happy to be rid of the old hag. King Oscar had soon taken charge again and declared that whoever had executed Morrible had done Oz, and the king personally, a great service, for which he wished to thank them. He promised that all would go back to the way it had been before Morrible, but everyone knew they still had a long way to go.

The fact that they most likely would not need to face punishment was of some consolation to Elphaba, but she still flatly refused to travel to the Emerald City to see the king for herself, nor would she let Fiyero go. She thought it would be stupid to take any risks. She and Fiyero both wrote to the king to let him know that they were still alive, but neither of them had any intention of taking up their father's respective positions and they would not be travelling to the City, given what had happened and how the people felt about them.

Elphaba didn't know if the king would approve, but she didn't truly care. With things settling back down, he wouldn't dare travel to Gillikin and forcing himself into the Uplands' home to apprehend her and Fiyero – and besides, by the time he'd get the letter, she and Fiyero would already be gone. As soon as Glinda did not need them anymore and things had settled down somewhat, she had started talking about wanting to leave Gillikin and going somewhere safe and far away from other people – most likely Kiamo Ko, as Fiyero had instantly suggested. Myah would be coming with them.

Glinda was not too fond of this plan, but she was appeased when Elphaba reminded her that Kiamo Ko wasn't _that_ far from the Uplands' home and promised that they would come visit the blonde as often as possible.

"It won't be forever, anyway," she'd assured her friend. "Myah wouldn't want to be cooped up in a castle with just Fiyero and me for the rest of her life – frankly, neither would I. We need some time, though. Until things in Oz have settled down and our names are cleared completely, which I still hope will happen; and until I find a way to turn back Fiyero's curse."

Glinda had looked at her solemnly. "Elphie," she said quietly.

"Don't," said the green girl sharply. "I know what you're going to say, but there has to be a way."

Glinda had only nodded. "Okay." She wasn't sure if there was indeed a way, but she did know that if anyone could find one, it would be Elphaba.

And indeed, eventually, she did.

It took her a while. Everything she found and that she thought might work, she tried on Fiyero, but to no avail; nothing worked. Even after they did move back into Kiamo Ko, another month passed before she had to conclude that she could only find one solution.

When she entered his room, Fiyero could tell by the look on her face what she was about to say and he tried not to let his own disappointment shine through too much. "There's nothing, is there?"

"There's something," she said, slowly sinking down onto the bed across from where he was sitting against the headboard. "But it still doesn't mean you're free."

He frowned and she explained simply, "Spells from the Grimmerie can't be reversed. I've learnt that much. Hardly any other spell is strong enough to stick over any Grimmerie spell because those spells are so powerful. I had one idea, but it's… it's stupid. It wouldn't help."

"What is it?" he prodded and she sighed.

"I could re-write the spell that allowed Glinda and the others to practise mind control on me," she said reluctantly. "I could limit the power over your transformations to a single person, so that you wouldn't change anymore unless that one person makes you. It wouldn't work when you get very emotional, like when you broke free of Morrible, but it should work otherwise. Only… you'd still be trapped. You'd still be under someone's control, even if that someone were a person you trust..."

"Fae," he said, making her look up at him. "Are you saying you think any person I trust would try to control me, even if they did have the power?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm assuming you'd want me to bind you to Myah, which would work, and she's too good a person to use you like that. You could trust her not to take advantage of it."

"And it would be possible? For that person to have the power, but never use it?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Then I want you to do it."

She looked surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "I trust you."

It took a few moments of that to sink in and she blinked. "Me? But…"

"I trust Myah, too," he said quickly. "Of course I do – she's my sister. But this is magic. You're much more at home with all that than she is. You'd know how to handle it without hurting me, and I know you'd never hurt me intentionally. I love you, Fae. Of course I trust you."

"But… with this?!" she protested. "Fiyero, this is something huge – you realise that, right? If anything happens, if we… get separated…"

From the look on her face, he knew she wasn't talking about another situation like the one with Morrible. She was still afraid he was going to get sick of her one day. It pained him, but he knew the only way to convince was to take things one day at a time and make her see he really wasn't going anywhere.

He scooted closer to her and took her hands in his, gently running his thumbs over her knuckles. "Cast the spell, Fae."

She looked deep into his eyes and, apparently convinced by what she saw, she nodded. "It'll take me a few days to re-write it," she whispered. "But I'll do it."

He squeezed her hands and then let go. She continued to look at him, as if something about him was puzzling her, and he moved his hand to her neck to pull her closer and kiss her.

They fell back onto the bed together, Elphaba on top of him, their mouths still pressed together. When she deepened the kiss, he was a little surprised – she hardly ever initiated – but that was nothing compared to how baffled he was when she yanked his shirt off over his head and wiggled out of her own dress, leaving her in the shift dress she wore underneath. "Fae?"

"I trust you, too," she said by means of explanation before going back to kissing him.

* * *

They didn't make love. Her fears weren't conquered _that_ easily, not to mention the problem Fiyero was still facing regarding his transformations when he got excited. Still, it was good to be back where they had been before, experimenting and trying to go a little further each time. Fiyero could tell it boosted Elphaba's confidence that one day, she'd be able to get past what had happened to her completely, even if she knew she would never forget it.

A couple of days later, after Fiyero had talked it over with Myah and she'd agreed that this was the best course of action, Elphaba succeeded in re-writing the original spell.

"Like I said, it won't keep you from changing," she warned him. "It's like with Morrible – when you get very emotional, you'll still change of your own accord. It just won't happen as quickly, or as often."

He nodded patiently. "That's fine, Fae. Anything is better than the way it is now."

She exhaled. "Okay. If you're sure. And just so you know, I can… control you. I told you that, right? I mean, I _won't_ , of course, but I could. Are you _really_ sure you're okay with that idea?"

"Yes, Elphaba, I'm sure. I know you won't turn me into a beast."

"Unless she's into that kind of thing," Myah chimed in brightly. Elphaba gave her a horrified look at that, but Fiyero was trying – and failing – to stifle his laughter.

"Yeah, Fae," he added teasingly. "If you like that, I wouldn't mind you turning me –"

"That's quite enough," she interjected, her cheeks flushed. "Also, Myah, remember that you're talking about your brother here."

Myah made a face. "That's a good point. Never mind. Ew. I don't even want to know."

Fiyero looked at the green girl and nodded, at which she took a deep breath. Then she cast the spell.

They all expected something to happen. It didn't. There was just a faint glow which died away soon enough, and then nothing.

"That's it?" Myah asked, sounding disappointed.

Elphaba shrugged. "That's it."

"Can you…" Fiyero wiggled his fingers. "You know. Try it out?"

She looked horrified again. "You want me to control you?"

"Just for a moment," he said. "I mean… it might be necessary sometimes, anyway. It could be of use in fights."

"You could think of a code word," Myah suggested. "Something you'd say so he'd know you were manipulating him, but no-one else would."

"Like what?" asked Elphaba, still unconvinced, and Myah shrugged.

"I don't know. Something you wouldn't normally use in conversation. 'Emeralds'?"

Elphaba pretended to gag, which made Myah giggle, but Fiyero just shrugged. "That works."

"Fine, then," the young witch said. "Emeralds." With that, she focused on turning Fiyero into his other form.

It was easy. Much easier than she'd expected it to be, actually. Within a few heartbeats, he had completely transformed into his beastly form. He growled a little in surprise and she held up her hands. "Hey, you wanted me to try it."

Myah was studying him from all angles, fascinated. "This is actually pretty awesome," she said admiringly. "You know, aside from the whole Morrible-making-you-kill-people-and-everyone-being-afraid-of-you-business," she added hastily when she saw Elphaba and Fiyero's incredulous looks. "Do you walk on four feet now, instead of two? Could I ride you? Because that would be _so awesome_."

Her brother snarled at her and she quickly backed off. "Okay. Got it. No riding."

Elphaba smirked and tried to change him back slightly, which also worked. He now looked more like he usually did when he got worked up about something, but not to the extent that he changed completely.

"It works," she said in wonder and he grinned at her, revealing his now-pointy teeth.

"Of course it works," he said. "You're brilliant."

She rolled her eyes at him and relaxed, letting him change back.

"Seriously, though," he said, looking excited. "This… this means we can leave. Right? We can find someplace else to live, someplace nice… we can have a normal life!"

Elphaba unfolded her damaged wings, letting them spring up high above her shoulders to illustrate her point. "Define 'normal'."

He only stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, wings and all, pressing a kiss to one of the scarred feathers. "I didn't say _we_ were normal. I said our lives could be normal. You… you're far too extraordinary to be normal. In a good way," he added, just to be sure she wouldn't twist his words into something negative, and she chuckled.

It still pained him to see her wings like this. They'd been so magnificent before, and though they weren't any less impressive now, they were so obviously damaged. He knew she'd never be able to fly as well with them as she was used to. It was a miracle she was able to fly at all.

Then again, he realised they all had wounds that would never heal - both on the inside and the outside. Myah, Elphaba, and Fiyero himself would never get back their respective families. Elphaba would never see with her right eye again and he would probably never again be completely human. Myah, cheerful as she might appear during the day, was having nightmares, he knew; she's seen and experienced far too much for someone so young. And of course there was Glinda, who had tried to help them, even saved their lives, and now could never walk again because of it.

Contrary to Elphaba, though, he was determined to stay optimistic this time and believe that it didn't matter. It _did_ , of course, but they'd still made it and he was convinced that that was the most important thing. They could live with their scars.

He gently caressed one of her wings and she shivered. "Do you really think we could?" she asked him, drawing him from his thoughts. "Live somewhere else, I mean?"

"Our names have been cleared," he reminded her. "Sure, people will be wary, but I don't want to stay in Kiamo Ko for the rest of my life. We could move to that small village in Gillikin," he mused, still absently stroking Elphaba's wings. "We'd be laying low, stay out of sight a little… and we'd be close to Glinda."

Her eyes lit up. He'd known she'd like that idea.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and said, "You and me, sweetheart…"

"And me," Myah piped up and he let out a laugh.

"And you," he agreed, holding out one hand. She snuggled her way under his arm and wrapped her other arm around Elphaba in a group hug. "We can do anything."

"Yes we can!" Myah cried, bouncing up and down in excitement, but it was Elphaba he was looking at and what he saw in that single large, dark brown eye made him smile. For the first time, she actually seemed to believe him.


	25. Epilogue

**Here you go, folks - the very last chapter. I hope it wraps everything up to your satisfaction. :)**

* * *

 **Epilogue**

"Yes!" Glinda shouted. "I win!" She turned her chair around and beamed at Myah, who just arrived at the same spot, panting and clutching her side. "I won!" the blonde said again and Myah glared at her.

Elphaba laughed. "Who could've guessed you'd get used to that chair so well, huh, Glin?"

"Mostly thanks to you," said Glinda, wheeling her way over to her friend. "I mean, you helped me." Her smile faded and Elphaba knew what she was thinking.

"I just miss that free feeling that comes with being able to go anywhere, you know?" said Glinda, trying to muster up another smile, but failing this time. "Sometimes it feels confining."

Elphaba looked at her and then at Myah. "Help me, will you?" she asked the princess and together, they managed to get Glinda onto Elphaba's back, clutching the green girl's neck as she lay between her wings, which unfurled. Elphaba flapped them a few times and they rose up into the air, Glinda squealing.

Elphaba chuckled. "You always did say you love it when I take you up because it makes you feel free," she said and Glinda squeezed her arms a little tighter around her best friend.

"I do," she said. "Thank you, Elphie."

Rationally, Elphaba knew that Glinda's predicament wasn't her fault, but it was hard not to feel responsible nonetheless. Anything she could do to make the blonde feel better, she would do. Glinda was her best friend. She hated seeing her unhappy.

Thankfully, mostly because of Glinda's optimistic, perky nature, she wasn't unhappy very often; she'd gotten used to her chair quite quickly and although she sometimes still did feel sad about it, and probably always would, she bore it remarkably well.

It probably didn't hurt that a childhood friend of hers, who lived just down the street from the Uplands, had recently come to call on her more often. To someone like Glinda, a boy being interested in her proved that her chair and everything that had happened didn't make her undesirable and hadn't changed who she was, deep down inside. Elphaba was pretty sure this particular boy fancied her blonde friend and she hoped it would blossom into something more over time. Glinda deserved that much.

When some of Glinda's old friends had come by to visit and expressed their horror and regret at what had happened, Elphaba had heard her friend say, "It's not all bad. For example, it takes a lot longer for my shoes to wear out when I'm not walking on them!", which was so typically Glinda that it had brought a lump to her throat. It was true, she realised, what she had thought a while ago, right after she and Fiyero had been reunited. Despite everything, deep down, they were all still the same. It was a comforting thought. Not everything changed.

She returned Glinda to her chair after a short while, being unable to carry anyone for long, and then pushed her chair back to her parents' home. Glinda twisted in her chair to look back at her friend. "Elphie, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm?"

There was a mischievous twinkle in the blonde's eyes. "Have you and Fiyero talked about starting a family?"

Elphaba abruptly stopped walking. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me! It's not such a strange question!" Glinda fluttered her hands. "He loves you, you love him… it's been almost two years. You've settled into a normal home now, so what else is stopping you?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Elphaba sarcastically. "You do remember that tiny little problem I have, don't you?"

Glinda's eyes widened. "Still? Oh… I guess I just assumed that… I don't know." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Elphie. I know that's not something you get over easily, but… after so long, and you say you trust Fiyero…"

"I do," she said honestly. "I guess I just don't trust myself. We've been… getting closer." She blushed, which made Glinda squeal. "But not that close – not yet. And besides," she added, "I don't know if I really want children, anyway. You know my views on marriage, so why do you think my views on starting a family are any different?"

"Because a family is not just about paperwork," said Glinda matter-of-factly. "Marriage is, I'll grant you that, but children are _people_. It's entirely different."

"Perhaps." Elphaba shrugged. "But right now, I don't think I'm ready for either of them."

"That's okay," said Glinda confidently. "Fiyero will win you over in time."

Her friend stared at her.

"What?" Glinda asked. "Are you denying it? You know he'd like kids. He's patient. He'll wait until you're ready."

Elphaba had to admit that that was probably true. He'd waited until she was ready for everything else, after all.

Glinda wasn't the only one to nag them about marriage and children. Myah was just as bad. Almost every other day, she'd bounce up to one or both of them and demand when she was going to be an aunt, if she could be a bridesmaid once they got married, or if they thought this-and-that was a good name for her niece or nephew. It drove both Fiyero and Elphaba crazy.

Still, the girl did bring a lot of liveliness to their small home, which was indeed located in a village only a ten-minute walk away from the Uplands' home. They often went over there to keep Glinda company, since Geoffren and Leora were both still busy helping the other members of the nobility and the king to get Oz back on track and repair the damage Morrible had done to the best of their abilities.

A part of Elphaba had wanted to help, but a larger part of her had wanted to stay out of it completely. She'd done her part; this wasn't her fight anymore. Besides, not everyone believed that she hadn't actually been Morrible's pawn and some of them didn't take too friendly to her. She was tired of being judged, tired of being involved in political games, and tired of pretending. Before, she'd never thought she'd say this, but she really just wanted to remain in that quiet village and spend time with Fiyero and her friends – even though Fiyero had already knowingly predicted that she'd get tired of that, too, before long, and she'd be eager to make a difference again. She had to admit that that was probably true. He knew her well.

" _Do_ you want children?" she asked him that night when they were getting ready for bed.

He stilled, turning to watch her. "What?"

"Glinda was nagging me again this afternoon," she said, shrugging as she ran a brush through her long, raven hair. "I was just wondering."

"I do," he admitted. "I think I'd like to have kids. If you don't want them, though…"

"No," she said. "I do. Or, well… I don't know. Not yet, anyway. But I think I could be open to the idea… someday."

He grinned. "All right. Someday." He came up behind her and rested his chin on the top of her head, looking at their reflection in the mirror. "Do you remember that day in the dungeon?"

"It feels ages ago, doesn't it?" she murmured, leaning into him. "I guess we were both right, even if we didn't know it then."

" _You_ were right," he corrected her. "I'd already given up. You were the one telling me I wouldn't spend the rest of my life in Southstairs. You were the one vowing to bring Morrible down one day. And you did."

" _We_ did."

He smiled, nuzzling one of her wings. "Fine. We did." He let go of her and helped her to her feet. "Let's go to bed."

She turned to look at him, tilting her head a little to the side and studying him closely. Then she stepped forward and kissed him.

* * *

It turned out that love-making was one of the things that could still cause Fiyero to change involuntarily, although much to his relief, he maintained control and he didn't change completely. As per usual, it made him feel a little insecure; but, also as per usual, Elphaba soon made it clear that she didn't mind at all.

It also turned out that her wings got in the way slightly, which she eventually solved by wrapping them around them both, creating a cocoon for them, their own little world. What was more, it turned out that, aside from the initial apprehension, it didn't scare her anymore to be with him like this.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Fiyero asked her quietly when she voiced that thought aloud afterwards, but she just nodded against his shoulder.

"I'd expected it to be worse," she admitted. "But I guess I shouldn't have. I knew that I love you, and I trust you. I was just scared."

"I know." He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "But not anymore?"

"Not anymore," she agreed, curling up against him, her wings once again coming around him. She reached out to trace his facial features with her fingertips. He still hadn't changed back completely. "Maybe Myah was right," she said, smirking at him. "I guess I am into this kind of thing."

He growled, which made her laugh, and she kissed his nose before nestling her head under his chin and closing her eyes. Perhaps, she thought drowsily, there would be children one day. Handling Myah could certainly be like handling a child, sometimes, and they managed that, didn't they?

In Southstairs, they'd never thought they'd see each other again. Years after that, in Kiamo Ko, they'd been convinced theirs was a relationship that was doomed from the start and they'd only have weeks, months at most, before they'd both be killed. She'd always lived on borrowed time, but every single time, they'd made it through – not without damage, but still. Surely, after everything they'd already been through, raising children couldn't be that hard. Maybe, if he really tried, she'd even let him talk her into getting married. She was pretty sure he could talk her into doing anything, if he really set his mind to it.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered, idly running his fingers across her wings and through her hair.

"You," she mumbled. "This. Us. Everything."

He chuckled. She could feel the vibrations in his chest. "That's quite a lot to think about. Good thoughts?" he asked, sounding a little apprehensive, for which she couldn't blame him.

"You know what?" she said, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. "For a change… yes."

"Well, it was about time," he muttered and she elbowed him between the ribs, but they both knew she wasn't very serious about it. "I mean it," he said. "Don't you think the Witch and the Monster deserve to live happily ever after?"

"You're not a monster," she said sternly, but his remark made her smile again, because it reminded her of what she herself had thought so many times. She didn't believe in happily ever after, but at least right now, she was happy. She was pretty sure he was, too. Whether they deserved it or not, there they were – and she wouldn't have it any other way.

 **\- THE END -**

* * *

 **I intend to not make you wait as long for my next fic as you had to wait for this one (oops). It's called Journey to the Past (which is VERY cliché) and loosely based on both the movie and the musical Anastasia (nooooo, really? I bet you hadn't guessed that yet from the title!).**

 **I've got a couple of chapters written, I'm working on the rest, I'm hoping it won't be long until the first chapter's up but I can't be sure, because we all know what happened the last time I said that, haha. Until then, so long! (Farewell! Auf Wiedersehen! Good night!)**


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